An Orion Roman Holiday
by bookdragon01
Summary: Cadet Gaila decides to finally go back home for a visit. What could go wrong? According to Starfleet Intel, a lot. So Capt. Pike assigns his Security Chief to go with her. What could go wrong indeed... Giotto & Gaila
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** An Orion Roman Holiday

**Summary**: Cadet Gaila decides to finally go back home for a visit. What could go wrong? According to Starfleet Intel, a lot. So Capt. Pike assigns his Security Chief to go with her. What could go wrong indeed... Giotto & Gaila

**Genre:** Humor/Friendship/not-exactly-Romance

**Rating:** T

**Acknowledgment:** Special thanks to **Artemiis Boz **who beta'd this for me. She has such a good sense of Gaila's voice - go read her fics.

**Disclaimer:** The only bits of Star Trek I own are videos, cos-play stuff and little action figures...

* * *

><p>Capt. Pike folded his hands and looked at the man across the desk from him. His friend wasn't prone to showing a lot in his expression, but Chris had known him long enough to see that he wasn't exactly thrilled by the prospect of this assignment. "Comments, Commander?"<p>

Giotto lifted his eyebrows. "You want me to babysit an Orion?"

The tone was just this side of 'You can't be serious'. Pike frowned. "Not babysit, Sam – she's an adult. I want you to keep an eye on her."

Sam's eyebrows moved marginally higher.

Chris's mouth twisted. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?" Giotto's expression was impassive, but Chris could hear the smirk. It was what he got for asking this of someone who'd spent too much time as his wingman back when they were both young lieutenants.

"Yes," he insisted flatly, "you do."

"I think the situation requires clarification. Sir." Little crinkles at the corners of Giotto's eyes were the only indication that somewhere deep inside he was laughing his ass off.

Chris tightened his lips against a smile. Every now and then the Sam he'd known before Maria's death made an appearance. However he'd ended with 'Sir' and that meant that he was either going to get straight answers, find a regulation way around the assignment, or force someone to issue direct orders. Pike knew the latter was the worst possible option, since his Security Chief was likely to pay him back by following them to the letter in most deviously annoying way possible.

"Look, I need someone I can trust to accompany her."

"There are plenty of people you could trust." That Chris himself wasn't among them was left unspoken. Very _loudly_ unspoken.

"It's not like you're going to take leave." Pike held a hand up to forestall protest and looked his old friend in the eye. "A few days at home with everyone asking about how you're holding up and you'll be back stalking the halls of the ship and driving the work crews crazy. We both know it."

Giotto crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow. "So I'm not babysitting her; she's babysitting me?"

"If you prefer to think of it that way." Chris smirked. "Personally, I call it a win-win situation."

"You would."

"Look, I'm not saying you're going to enjoy this, but she's a top-ranked Cadet. She's nothing like the women you used to have to pull off of me."

Sam snorted. "You mean that I used to have to pull you off of."

"It's not Federation space," he continued, hoping a slight blush would be mistaken for embarrassment over those memories, "and she's a brilliant enough programmer to be on some high level projects even as cadet. I'd rather send you with her now than risk having to ask you to put together a plan to retrieve her later."

Giotto scowled, but nodded. "Alright, but I swear by whatever deity you still believe in that if this turns out to be as bad as I expect, I will make your life hell when I get back. And as down payment on that, you get to explain to the family why I won't be home for leave."

Chris's eyes crinkled as he smiled back at his friend.

"Deal."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila looked around the terminal, hoping the commander would be able to find her. It wasn't that she thought all humans looked alike, but medium-tall men with a mix of dark and gray hair where hardly in short supply here.

When Capt. Pike's yeoman had described Giotto as having 'olive skin', Gaila had briefly rejoiced, thinking that it meant he was part Orion. However the man in the ID picture had beige/tan skin just a little darker than the captain's, so 'olive' made no sense whatsoever (the only non-green olives Gaila had ever seen were closer to the color of her roommate's skin). Now 'salt-and-pepper' hair she could understand, but if the food references were meant to imply that there was something edible about the commander, Colt should have chosen wheat bread or graham crackers to describe his skin.

...Mmm, yummy… Gaila looked at the picture again. Dark eyes, strong jawline - not as cute as Pike, but not bad either...

"Cadet Gaila?"

Her head whipped around, bringing her face to face with the man in the picture. She mentally added 'moves really quietly' to the list of characteristics. Good to know. "Yes sir." She covered with a bright smile. "Pleased to meet you, Cmdr. Giotto."

"And you." He nodded curtly and turned, pointing. "Our ship's this way."

Her smile faded in shock. Human men _always_ smiled back. Always. Even the ones who were gay. Even the ones with wives (even when those wives were standing right next to them scowling). Pike had said that his friend was all business but this was ridiculous! She barely remembered to grab her bag before hurrying after him.

Gaila chewed on the problem as she followed. In the interest of knowing a little about who she'd be traveling with, she'd taken a peek at his personnel file (it wasn't technically hacking - anyone in the personnel office could look at it and she'd told the nice lieutenant, who had _definitely _smiled back at her, that she'd meet him at his office so he could take her to dinner). The pertinent information in Giotto's file indicated that he was (a) heterosexual and (b) single. He'd lead an interspecies combat unit _and_ he was Pike's friend, so xenophobia was out. How could he possibly not smile back?

By the time they entered the small ship, she was worked up enough to ask. "Is there something wrong, Commander?"

He tossed his bag into storage and immediately began the preflight checks. "Not that I'm aware of, Cadet."

His eyes never left the helm display. Gaila's hand twisted the strap of her satchel. She was starting to feel insulted. "It's just -"

"Relax." Giotto looked up and pointed out the forward window. "You see that man in coveralls? He's not just a mechanic. He checked this ship stem to stern as soon as she came in and he's been keeping an eye out to make sure that no one else touched her until we got here."

_Ozdat!_ - he thought she was worried that something was wrong with the ship. ...Wait, he had obviously been worried that someone might do something to the ship.

Now a corner of commander's mouth turned upward. "Just a precaution. Have a seat," he indicated the co-pilot's chair, "and help me finish the flight checks. There's an open launch window in twelve minutes. If we're quick, we should be able to take it."

"Aye sir." Gaila sat and activated her read-outs, feeling relieved. Even though she hadn't taken quals and wasn't technically qualified to co-pilot, Mr. All-Business had just waved regulations to let her take the position. Plus, that had _almost _been a smile.

Ha! He did like her. Gaila smiled to herself. They had a long way to go before reaching Orion space. Plenty of time to work on the smiling thing.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto glanced at the chronometer. Only 3 hours into the flight and he was already wishing that he'd packed a bottle of something considerably stronger than Dr. Puri's supplements. Another 34 hours trapped with a bubbly, talkative extrovert and he was going to stun himself with his own phaser.

It hadn't taken much to see that Gaila was agitated when she'd come aboard, and recognizing that she had reason to be nervous about this journey, particularly when her traveling companion was a total stranger, Giotto had initially tried to be tolerant of her attempts to make conversation. He was not what might be called a 'people person' and particularly disliked personal questions, but he had tried to respond politely to her queries (Yes, he had known Chris Pike a long time. Yes, they'd met during the Border Wars. No, he didn't like to talk about it. Yes, it _was_ a long time ago - he _still_ didn't like to talk about it).

To be polite and to shift the conversation to a different topic, he'd asked Gaila about her history and she'd told him about stowing away on her cousin's ship to get off Orion and make a life on her own terms in the Federation. That part had been moderately pleasant. Sam was not much for engaging in conversation, but he was very good at listening. While he could have done without some of the more detailed descriptions of what she'd discovered about human sexual proclivities, he'd been in Starfleet for close to three decades so very little shocked him. However at some point she'd decided to try to draw him out again. This time, unfortunately, by making 'small talk'. It was not, to put it mildly, Sam's favorite form of conversation.

"...so I've been trying to learn about earth cultures. There are so many different ethnic groups - at least ten times more than on Orion - but let me guess," she grinned at him. "'Giotto' is French, right?"

"Italian."

"Italian..." Her brows furrowed momentarily and then she brightened. " Ooh, like pizza and lasagna!"

Giotto resisted an urge to roll his eyes. "Among other things."

"Oh I know. There's art and opera. It seems like such a _sensual_ culture." She put her elbows on the console, rested her chin in both palms and beamed at him. "Tell me about Italy."

The worst part was that if she hadn't been getting on his last nerve for close to an hour now, she'd look appealing like that. "Sorry, I've never spent more than a few days there."

Her eager expression switched to puzzled. "I don't understand."

"I grew up in an ethnically Italian neighborhood in North America," he explained. "I toured a couple Italian cities once when I had some time after a meeting at the Hague, but that was almost twenty years ago."

Gaila deflated a little, allowing a whole two beats of actual silence. Then she perked up, smiling again. "Do you have a girlfriend, Commander?"

Huh? Not only had that been completely out of left field, but his wife had been killed in action less than a year ago and that question could too easily lead to topics that were simply _not_ open for discussion.

"I don't discuss my personal life, Cadet." He gave her an look that should have been as easy to read as an actual 'No Trespassing' sign.

Her lips quirked to a sly smile. "Does that mean yes or no?"

"It means I don't share that information with people who have no need to know."

A red eyebrow arched playfully. "What if I needed to know?"

Good grief, this kid was not trying to flirt with him. "Trust me, you don't."

"Are you sure?" She leaned in, smile widening just a little.

"Yes." Sam quickly looked away, thinking hard about how he would be sending Chris a 20-page battle readiness report to be filled out _in triplicate_.

A sad little huff came from Gaila's direction. "Men always like me, Commander. Why don't you?"

Giotto suppressed a sigh. "I don't _dislike_ you, Cadet. I'm just not open to you making that sort of suggestion, so -"

"That's so strange," she interrupted.

He felt his eyebrows climb.

"I mean," she continued in rush of words, "we're off duty and I'm not in your line of command anyway and after Capt. Pike told me who was going to be coming with me I overheard a couple people outside the office saying that they wouldn't be too jealous because you _really_ needed to get laid."

Sam looked upward, struggling between conflicting impulses to either laugh out loud or beat his head against the helm. Reminding himself that she'd only been at the Academy a short time and was relatively new to human culture in general, he looked back at her with his best approximation of a patient expression. "Cadet, as you continue in Starfleet, you will find that that is an opinion subordinates frequently hold when it comes to COs who expect a lot from them. Please do not take it to mean that you personally are under any obligation to act on their opinions."

* * *

><p><em>AN: That memories involving Gaila might give Pike reason to blush about is in <em>'Adventures in Recruiting'.

_I did a short piece on Gaila and Giotto meeting a few years after this because Gaila just jumped in and took over the tale I'd meant to write. She seems to want more fics too because the characters keep feeding me backstory. So here it is, with some help from my wonderful beta._

_Like it? Hate it? Please r&r_


	2. Rock and a Hard Place

**Rock and a Hard Place**

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila almost laughed. Oh dear Goddess, in his own strange human way Giotto was trying to be honorable by staying all distant and reserved so she wouldn't feel like she was expected to sleep with him. And he was so _sincere _about it. It was adorable.

"It's not like that, Commander," she smiled encouragingly. "I _like_ sex."

His eyes closed a beat too long to be a blink. "Most people do - that doesn't mean it's always a good idea."

Silly humans – it was _always _a good idea.

"But it would be," she countered. "Especially on this trip. People at home would never understand my taking pheromone suppressants, so I have to be off them. I took my last one yesterday."

Giotto turned and stared out the forward viewscreen, mouth set in a thin line. For just a second he almost looked like he was going to hit something. Then he released a slow breath and nodded. "It's alright. I've been exposed before."

That determined self-control - she'd liked that about Pike too, although he'd been a lot easier to persuade. "But we're going to be together for days and once we arrive, there'll be all my sisters." It was symptom of suppressants already wearing off that she felt a little flash at the thought of sharing before she'd established a primary claim. "They know I'm bringing a human home with me and they're going to be really curious."

Another deliberate breath. "I'll answer their questions as best I can."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know. I've spent time in Orion space before." He stood and straightened with a small stretch. "Right now, I think I should spend some time sleeping - _just _sleeping. I'll relieve you in six hours."

_I could relieve you now if you'd let me_. She didn't say it. There was a slight scent of arousal/frustration, but it would take more subtle methods to bag this one.

...Bag? Yeah, the suppressants were definitely wearing off and she hadn't had to deal with the hormonal impulses that sometimes accompanied pheromone production for over year now. Gaila composed herself. "Aye, sir. I'll wake you in six."

He turned at the entrance to the rear compartment. "Just call my name from the door. In a strange place I sometimes ...wake violently."

Gaila nodded understanding and watched the door thoughtfully after he'd gone in. She might be hormonal, but she certainly wasn't stupid. A 'fleet Security Commander who'd spent enough time in Orion space to think he was prepared to resist a whole group of sisters and who had the sort of conditioning to wake ready to fight - Pike hadn't sent along a friend who needed an opportunity to loosen up a little; he'd sent someone with experience, probably Intel experience, in dealing with the Syndicate.

The question was: why?

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Once in the rear cabin, Giotto wiped a hand over his face. This assignment was going to be hell, and in no small part because he'd been given very specific orders not to let anyone, particularly Gaila, know that he actually was on assignment.

In other words, he was screwed (and not in the good way that Gaila had been suggesting). However, giving in was not an option. While Sam had no moral objections to the concept of recreational sex, any such encounter with this Cadet would be a bad idea on more levels than he cared to even contemplate. The most relevant at this point being that if he allowed that sort of exposure to one Orion's pheromones, even the supplements from Dr. Puri would do him no good whatsoever in resisting the influence of other Orion women, especially those with Syndicate training.

He sat down heavily on the bed and activated his comm.

After a moment Capt. Pike's voice flickered into the room. "You're checking in early. How's it going?"

"I'm going to kill you, Chris," he replied matter-of-factly. "In the slowest, most painful method I can possibly devise and no jury in universe will convict me."

"That well huh?"

"She's gone off her pheromone suppressants and just to make things _really_ interesting, she propositioned me."

"I'm sorry, I had no idea she'd stop the suppressants so soon. But are you sure about the proposition? I mean, given the situation, wishful thinking-"

"She was _not_ subtle," Giotto growled. "And apparently she told her sisters that she'd be bringing a human home for their entertainment."

There was something suspiciously like a muffled snicker on the other end. "You know, Sam, a lot of -"

"Chris," he interrupted sharply, "if the next words I hear have anything to do with anyone envying me, I _swear to God _I will turn this ship around and hunt you down right now."

"Swear to 'God'?" Chris's voice still sounded dangerously close to amused. "When did you start believing again?"

"I've decided there's evidence for the existence of wrathful deity," Sam said evenly. "And you'd do well to remember that _if_ He exists, I was made in His image."

"I'm really sorry, Sam. I know this isn't going to be easy."

"_Not easy?_ Chris, it's going to take every single trick I ever learned in SI to get through this and then some. I'm stuck in close quarters with an oversexed Orion who's giving off pheromones before that stuff Dr. Puri gave me can even begin to take effect _and_ she seems a bit put out about being rejected."

"Well, she's," Chris coughed, as though swallowing a laugh, "probably not used to men playing hard to get."

"Playing hard to get?" Sam repeated through clenched teeth. "I have to stick close to her for the next _four days_. If this turns into some kind of game for her..." It didn't bear thinking about. Orions weren't known just for sex appeal. Most were avid and highly competitive gamers and none of them were good about losing.

"Relax, Sam..."

"Relax? I'm between a rock and hard place here – and don't you _dare _turn that into an innuendo," Giotto warned. "I can't avoid her. I can't touch her and I tell her _why_ I can't touch her. If I keep rejecting her, she might get too hacked off to let me stick close enough to protect her once we're there, but if I give in to her pheromones, I won't stand a chance in hell against an experienced Syndicate agent's."

"I know, and that's why we set up the daily check-ins," Pike acknowledged in his 'reassuring Captain' voice. "But it won't come to that. I really think this whole thing is just SI being paranoid."

"I spent two years with SI - they have _reasons_ for being paranoid."

"Okay, it's four days of serious vigilance," Chris conceded. "But I know you can manage it, and hey, on the trip back..."

"She's a _cadet_," Giotto snapped. "And a damned annoying one at that."

"That's the spirit," Chris chuckled.

"I _have_ mentioned that I'm going to kill you, right?"

"Any chance of a reprieve if I arrange for a week on Risa when you get back?"

Giotto waited, letting him listen to dead air.

"How about if I pick up your bar tab for the week?"

"That _might _buy a measure of clemency," Sam agreed slowly. "But only because that tab's going to require a loan against your earnings for the foreseeable future."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila woke, but not because Giotto had woken her. She checked the chronometer - 8 hours since she'd gone to sleep. She'd waited an extra 15 minutes to wake the Commander, but mostly because she'd been watching him from the doorway, debating if that warning about waking violently was a ruse to keep her from touching him while his defenses were down (and before she'd decided, he'd opened his eyes and informed her that she was late).

Close to a day stuck on this shuttle together and he'd been nothing but distant and formal, which was _not_ normal male behavior, especially with her pheromones coming back. He was only a few years older than Captain Pike – nowhere near old enough to be disinterested and in her experience humans rarely let age hamper their libido (she'd had 90-year-olds make suggestions that would've made an Eroticon pleasure drone blush). Letting her oversleep was just another avoidance tactic. Gaila threw her blankets off in a huff and stalked to the front cabin. And stopped.

The scent hit her first. Humans didn't even realize when they gave off their own pheromones (which was pretty unfair considering how worried they were about hers). Giotto was dressed in a loose fitting black outfit, running through a sequence of movements that made her think of a war dance - smooth motions with sudden punctuations of power as though he was fighting a series of invisible attackers. He must have been at it for a while because he was so covered with sweat that the loose clothing was clinging in a way that did nothing whatsoever to hide the muscles beneath. And that was really unfair, because if he'd wanted a work out...

Giotto turned, poised to throw a kick, caught sight of her and nearly lost his balance. He quickly righted himself and turned away. "Put some clothes on Cadet."

Ha! For just a second there he'd reacted like a normal man. Gaila smirked. "I always sleep in the nude. When I realized you hadn't woken me, I was _so_ worried that I rushed right out in case you needed help." She ran her hands along his shoulders as she circled to face him. "Do you?" she traced a finger along the little valley between pectorals and raised her eyebrows playfully, "Need help?"

He took a step back, eyes fixed to a spot somewhere past her left ear. "_Not_ at the moment."

A challenge. Usually men chased her (or couldn't believe their luck if she came on to them), but it was fun being the pursuer. She grinned. "To paraphrase a human line, Commander, your lips say no, but your scent says yes."

"My 'scent' is not making the decisions here," he stated firmly. "And neither is yours."

"Is that the problem? You don't _like_ not being in control?" she smiled, moving closer. "I can work with that. Hold the pheromones back a bit. You could even tie me up -"

The Commander suddenly looked upward and laughed.

Okay, _now_ she was insulted. "What?"

"Forgive me, Cadet." When he looked down there was amusement in his eyes. "I've just always found it funny when people assume that particular kink for Security."

Unbelievable! Beautiful, naked Orion standing right in front of him. Most men wouldn't be able to say yes fast enough no matter what she'd suggested. "What's going on, Commander?"

He pursed his lips slightly. "Until you interrupted me, I was practicing a series of fighting forms. Now I'm going to take a shower," he held a hand up before she could say anything, "by myself."

"That's not what I meant."

"There are lines I won't cross, Cadet, and they're not open to discussion." He started to head toward the shower. "We need to eat and I'd like a briefing on your home region before we arrive. I'd appreciate it if you were clothed for that."

Gaila stared in disbelief. "You are the strangest human I've ever met."

Giotto turned at the door to the shower. "Thank you."

Well, at least she'd finally gotten him to smile.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know, it's cruel to torture Sam like this. And maybe Gaila too, but she'll get over it. <em>

_SI = Starfleet Intelligence (yes, the joke about any form of military intelligence being a contradiction in terms has survived into the 23rd century)_

_Please r&r_


	3. Hot Saints and Cold Shoulders

**Hot Saints and Cold Shoulders**

* * *

><p>Giotto released a sharp breath when the shower door closed behind him. Hours of working to burn off tension had been completely shot to hell by the sudden appearance of a naked and incredibly persistent young woman. Gaila was clearly determined to drive him insane. Sam wasn't about to start behaving like some mindless stag losing all sense at the scent of a doe, but adding visual to biochemical stimuli had been hitting below the belt (in more ways than one). Stripping, he set the shower to a temperature barely above 'sleet'. Anything else would come too close to giving in to pheromones.<p>

As he let the cold soak in, Sam considered ways to murder his so-called best friend. He hadn't been with anyone since Maria had died and at the moment temporary insanity struck him as a perfectly reasonable defense for killing his Captain. Sticking him with a randy 19-year-old Orion Cadet - there really ought to be a special place in hell for that, preferably a spot in a narrow cage with green succubi dancing around just out reach...

Fortunately Gaila's latest attempt at seduction had set off enough internal alarms to keep him on the straight and narrow. If you were in security long enough, certain assumptions became automatic: the pretty young thing who offered you a drink had probably drugged it; the scantily-clad dancer was likely there to keep you from noticing the guy creeping past your position; and the knock-out who wanted to come back to your place was almost certainly more interested in having a way inside your defenses than having you inside of her.

If you wanted to survive, and more importantly, if you wanted the people you were sworn to protect to survive, you learned to be very, very good at resisting temptation. By this point in his career, Giotto had a long and impressive record when it came to survival.

He shut off the shower and shook the icy water from his hair. He was on duty here. Despite Dr. Boyce's contention that he was beginning to make Vulcans look warm and cuddly, work was what had kept him sane since losing Maria and that single-minded focus had served him well. Staying focused was a matter of resolve and Sam had, as his wife had been fond of saying, 'a textbook case of stubborn'.

If all else failed, he would just recall that wherever Maria was now, he could've sworn he'd heard her laughing when Gaila had made that offer to let him tie her up.

Gaila might not be especially good at taking 'no' for an answer, but Giotto was confident that he could keeping saying it.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila looked in the mirror, submitting her reflection to a thorough and critical evaluation. There was only one possible conclusion: she was totally hot.

She really was. Basic training and all those drills at the Academy had left her even more toned and shapely than when she'd first met Capt. Pike. Like _most_ men, his eyes had nearly popped out of his head when he'd seen her naked.

Beyond the first moment, Giotto hadn't quite shown it, but he'd definitely been turned on. Scent did not lie. Yet for some bizarre reason, he'd absolutely refused to do anything about it. Well, other than whatever he was doing in a long shower, which in her opinion was a complete waste given the availability of a perfectly willing partner.

...Maybe she was too willing? She'd heard that some men didn't like women to be 'too easy'. Of course, she'd never met one. Gaila looked at the rounded curves of smooth, green skin in the mirror. Nah. Hard-to-get could be fun to play, but when it came to bouncing fit, attractive bodies together, there really was no such thing as 'too easy'.

A dark little doubt nagged at her. What if that line he wouldn't cross was there because he thought she might be some kind of spy? Nearly all of the Orions in earth holovids were either slave girls, Syndicate, or pirates. It was a preposterous stereotype, and she'd been through enough psych tests for Academy admission, not to mention the interview panel with two Betazoids, to make the idea ridiculous. Still...

No. Pike had said that she could trust Giotto, and she trusted Pike. Chris wouldn't stick her with someone who was prejudiced against Orions.

So what was the problem?

It couldn't be because she was a cadet. He wasn't an instructor, or even an engineer, so favoritism wasn't an issue. Sure, he out-ranked her, but the idea of the Commander using rank to coerce her was laughable. _Some_ stereotypes about Orions were true and Giotto had a strong, well-muscled body. Anyone with even a little xenopsychology would know that she'd gladly do him just for the fun of it. Besides, after being alone together on this shuttle, people were going to assume they'd done it anyway.

So why wouldn't he?

One way or another she was going to find out. Of course the best way would involve some hot UST-releasing sex afterward, but once she got the reason out of Giotto, that shouldn't be a problem. Humans had so many silly hang-ups about sex. There were times when she honestly felt like some kind of missionary bringing enlightenment to superstitious tribesmen. It was practically a calling. And she had a really high conversion rate.

hmm. 'Saint Gaila' had a nice ring to it...

She looked over her wardrobe and smiled. The Commander had asked her to be dressed, but he hadn't said in what. Sometimes the right dress was even sexier than being naked.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto set out two plates of lasagna. He was aware that he had probably offended Gaila and even the inferior replicated version should count as a minor peace offering. Besides, it was a dish that made him think of grandmother's restaurant and family dinners with his parents, which were possibly the least erotic thoughts in the known universe.

Taking a seat, he began scanning a logistics report (which was probably the least erotic reading material in the known universe). It would however hold his focus, especially since he'd already noted evidence that some idiot's 'design for minimum cost' would make upgrading his tactical systems next to impossible. In fact, it wasn't long before Giotto was thoroughly absorbed in composing a choicely-worded response to a 'chairborne ranger' who richly deserved to be posted somewhere in the Neutral Zone armed with only his own cost-saving measures.

"What are you up to, Commander?" Gaila interrupted with a little purr of double entendre. She was wearing a micro-dress that appeared to be made of translucent crepe paper held together with spider webs.

Interesting choice. Sam briefly entertained an evil fantasy about siccing Gaila on a certain faceless bureaucrat, but decided that the man would probably give in too easily and enjoy it too much. No, if he made his response a borderline threat and cc'ed Chris, he could torture two birds with one stone.

"Nothing, Cadet. Just catching up on some correspondence."

"I hope that's not work, Commander, because I was told to make sure you put that PADD down and had some _fun_." She leaned over, causing her paper-thin dress to leave even less to the imagination. "You wouldn't want me to ignore an order, would you?"

Forget borderline. He was going to write a blatant, direct threat to establish state-of-mind for when he got back and beat his Captain to death with a roll of crepe paper.

"Have a seat, Cadet." He set the PADD aside and lifted the cover from his plate. Nice, prosaic, homey lasagna. "Our food should still be warm."

Gaila paused a moment and Giotto smiled to himself. His chair was pushed too far in for her to take any seat but the empty one on the other side of the table.

"Mmm," she murmured, exuding a little cloud of pheromones as she settled into her chair. "_Italian_."

Giotto took a shallow breath and told himself firmly that her comment pertained to _food_. Besides, he'd been born on Asimov Station, so technically he was a Martian. "This doesn't quite count, but there are several good restaurants outside the Academy. I can give you some names when we get back."

"You could _take_ me," she suggested. "Then you can show me what you like. I'll try anything."

Yes, apparently she would, including bad lines. "We're on the way to _your_ home at the moment, Cadet. You mentioned earlier that your mother isn't too fond of Starfleet. Would it make things easier if I found a hotel?"

"No!"

He glanced up in surprise.

"...that is, Ama probably isn't going to greet you with open arms, but she'd be really insulted if you decided to stay at a hotel." Gaila switched to an enthusiastic smile and bounced a little. "Besides, the bed in the guest room is huge! All of my sisters can join us."

Sam considered the ice in his glass while carefully detaching his libido from that last sentence. Ice. He could think of at least three ways to kill someone with ice cubes, all of them far too quick and merciful for Chris.

"I was under the impression that you still had your own room."

"Oh, it's okay," she replied brightly. "I do. If you're worried about hurting someone with that waking violently thing, we'll all clear out before you fall asleep."

Hmm. Maybe he should have her to speak to that moron in logistics. Gaila at least seemed to have some grasp of planning ahead to avoid the potential for negative outcomes.

"It _would_ be worth warning your sisters-"

"Was that it?" She clapped her hands and started to get up. "You could have just said so! I really don't mind not cuddling afterward."

Sam shook his head, motioning for her to sit back down. "I was _going_ to add that it would be a good idea to stay out of my room anyway. I'd prefer not to contribute to your mother's already low opinion of Starfleet."

Gaila rolled her eyes. "It's _Orion_. Besides, the boys from next door come over all the time." She grinned at him. "You know, if we put an extra mattress on the floor-"

Giotto cleared his throat. "I do _not_ like ...crowds."

"That's so strange."

It wasn't. Not if you'd ever had to investigate an assassination that had occurred in the middle of an orgy, but that was not a direction he intended to take this conversation.

"I'm sure those young men are eager to see you again." Giotto made a mental note to catch their faces so he wouldn't mistakenly break someone who wasn't actually breaking in. "And you'll want to catch up with your friends and family, so please, don't worry about entertaining me."

"But I _want_ to, Commander." She paused and slowly sucked a bit of ricotta off her fork. "What kind of entertainment do you like?"

_Watching people who richly deserve payback receive it_. He didn't say it. There was a set answer that he'd prepared as an excuse to tag along and keep tabs on her for the next few days. "I enjoy visiting new places. I've never been to your part of Orion before, so I'm sure it will be interesting."

"I could take you all _kinds_ of places." Gaila grinned slyly and let the dress slip down one shoulder.

Giotto closed his eyes. There was no one else on the ship who could be creeping past, but the impulse to look was there anyway. "I've heard that there's an interesting museum near the local marketplace."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," he admitted. "But the places you're alluding to aren't in my travel plans."

"Why not?" Her brows drew down in bewilderment. "I can _tell_ you like women and men with medical issues don't give off your kind of scent."

His eyebrows rose. He hadn't been planning to claim impotence since it seemed likely that she'd take that as even more of a challenge, but he hadn't realized she could literally smell that kind of lie. Good to know.

"Cadet," Giotto said patiently. "We've been over this. My personal life, preferences and/or mental health are not open for discussion."

She pursed her lips. "You know, Commander, you don't have to be embarrassed if it's something weird. I'm really flexible - and not just physically. I mean, Starfleet would never have taken you if you had the kind of fantasies I couldn't get into."

Sam looked down. A face plant into half-eaten lasagna would be extremely messy, which was the main thing stopping him. "Cadet, my only fantasy at the moment is to have this conversation end."

"Commander," Gaila replied in a throaty voice, running the edge of her foot up his calf. "There are _plenty_ of things we could do besides talking."

_Focus, Sam_. He moved his leg and assumed a deadpan expression. "Would you like to help me write a strongly-worded objection to a logistics proposal?"

Gaila looked like she might throw something. That would be bad. A food fight held entirely too much potential for requiring another shower.

"Talking is fine," he conceded. To be safe, Giotto decided to suggest a topic that couldn't be easily steered toward the suggestive. "Why don't you tell me a little a more about your mother? I do have a bit of experience with people who have a negative opinion of Starfleet."

She arched an eyebrow, mouth set in a thin line. "I'll bet you do."

* * *

><p><em>AN: This is an unplanned chapter that <em>__turned up because a comment from_ _**StarTrekFanWriter **_inspired an out take that morphed into a real chapter._ _Many thanks to my beta,_ **Artemiis Boz**_, for helping with this on short notice._ __I tore a muscle in my leg and I've been on painkillers, so she had her work cut out in__ _pulling me back from some lame jokes and meandering sentences_.

_Also, I forgot last time to thank _**NotesfromaClassroom** _for giving me a tip for writing clearer dialog. I really do appreciate suggestions that help me to become a better writer, esp. from people who write as well as Notes.  
><em>

_Ama = Orion for mother  
><em>

_'Chairborne ranger' is a slight anachronism, but it's one of those bits of military slang that really deserves to survive._

_Giotto and Gaila will be on Orion in the next chapter. I promise.  
><em>

_Please r&r_


	4. Nice Cookies

**Nice Cookies**

* * *

><p>Giotto pushed back a little from the table and smiled at Navesh.<p>

So far, meeting Gaila's family had not gone too badly. He'd had to submit to being hugged (definitely not among his favorite customs), and hands had been placed in some places not normally associated with a simple welcome. However Gaila's mother had intervened, admonishing her daughters to give their guest 'a chance to catch his breath'. It had not been an entirely unwarranted metaphor. That sort of attention from three young women would affect any man's breathing.

Still, it was the mother who had actually taken his breath away, albeit not with any sort of come-on (ironically, that alone would have made her his preferred company by now). No, Gaila had warned him about her mother's less-than-favorable opinion of Starfleet, so Sam had arrived prepared to politely deflect or endure however that might be expressed. Navesh, however, while remaining somewhat distant by Orion standards, had done her best to make him feel both comfortable and welcome.

In fact, it hadn't taken long to realize that Gaila was counting on his presence and her mother's sense of hospitality to avoid arguments about her career was a conflict in which Giotto was quite happy to play Switzerland. Although he had devoted his life to Starfleet, he couldn't help but feel a certain amount of sympathy for Navesh. He'd never had children of his own, but if he had, he doubted every much that he'd have handled one of them running off to join an Orion fleet at all well. He almost certainly wouldn't have been as kind and gracious to a visiting comrade as Navesh was being to him. That sort of magnanimity belied a type of strength that Sam had to admire.

"More, Samuel?" Navesh's eyes twinkled as she pronounced his given name. Apparently 'samm' was local slang for some type of pillow - a fact some idiot in Intel had either missed or decided it would be amusing to omit.

Giotto tried not to think about it. He selected a pastry from the proffered tray and grinned at her. "Thank you, these are delicious. You know, if you ever decide to move to earth, I know people in the restaurant business."

"Flatterer," she patted his arm affectionately, "I can't understand how Gaila hasn't claimed you."

"I prefer women a little closer to my own age." He shook his head and quickly took a bite of pastry. "...Mmm... you really could sell these."

Navesh put another on his plate. "Samuel, you just _may_ convince me to forgive my daughter for running off to join Starfleet..."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Jedali, peeking through a crack in the door from the next room, giggled and turned to look at Gaila. "We might forgive you too. I haven't seen Ama this happy in cycles."

"You always were the smart one," Maras added. "But bringing someone home who would overlook us in favor of our mother? - Brilliant!"

Davara nodded agreement. "I don't know how you found him, _or what you bribed him with_, but I think there's a good chance we might finally be allowed to visit you on earth now."

Gaila put on a smug smile. No need to let her sisters know that she wasn't sure whether to feel pleased or deeply insulted at this turn of events. "The Commander's a little ...different. If you do get to visit, you'll see what humans are _really_ like. The guys I know in engineering will fall all over themselves for a chance to meet my sisters."

"Oh, I can't wait!" Jedali clapped her hands.

"I'm sure Ama would agree if you could persuade your Commander to invite us." Davara gave Gaila a sly grin. "She hasn't had a man her own age give her this much attention in ages."

Hmm. On Orion, a successful older man, especially one who could provide protection, would enjoy his pick of young women. But humans had some odd ideas about differences in age and authority (and Giotto was just odd). Gaila still suspected that Pike had sent him along as some sort of bodyguard, but, then again, Chris knew she hadn't tried coming home until now because her mother had barely spoken to her since she'd left. And the Commander _had_ been asking a lot of questions about her mother…

Maybe they'd secretly planned all this to get Ama to accept her being in Starfleet? That might explain why Giotto had been so set on resisting her and if that was the case she _might_ forgive him.

She might even thank him (on the way back of course). Gaila smiled at her sisters. "I'll see what I can do."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto stretched out under the sheets. The bed really was huge. And warm, and comfortable... but there was a comm to make. He opened his relay comm. Despite the distance, he got a fairly quick response.

"Sam, are you alright? I was beginning to worry."

"I'm fine, Chris," he answered lazily, "just lost track of time."

There was a pause. "Are you _sure_ you're alright? You sound... like you're not imagining ways to kill me."

"Too tired right now," Sam set the comm on the bedside table and closed his eyes, "...maybe on the way back."

"Sam," Chris asked carefully. "How _many_ of Dr. Puri's little pills have you taken?"

"Standard dose - I think it's finally kicking in a little - but it doesn't matter. The girls went off to talk together after dinner and then some of their friends came over." Faint noises were still coming through the wall, but he didn't care. Sam folded his hands behind his head. "This trip might turn out alright after all. I had a _great_ time with Gaila's mother."

"You..." Chris cleared his throat, "with Gaila's _mother_?"

"She's about our age, but she went through an early onset of the Orion version of menopause. She's a little sensitive about it, so the girls try to rein in their pheromones around her. Not that Navesh should need pheromones," he sighed contentedly. "Her cookies are amazing."

There was a moment of dumbfounded silence and Sam smiled to himself trying to imagine the look on his friend's face.

"...her 'cookies'?" Chris finally managed, voicing rising a little on a favorite euphemism.

Sam suppressed a chuckle. What he wouldn't give to have a video connection right now. "Not too soft, not too firm. She puts some sort of sweet, spicy cream on them and they're just the right size to fit in your mouth."

A slightly strangled noise came from the other end of the comm, followed by long breath. "Sam, unless you're talking about actual baked goods, I am _not_ paying your bar tab on Risa."

"Chris," Giotto replied as innocently as he could, "what else could you _possibly _imagine that I was talking about?"

"Dammit, Sam, you had me worried there."

"I am not responsible for where your mind goes when Orion women are involved," Sam informed him. "And I've decided that revenge is a dish best served with _cookies_. Navesh's _are_ particularly nice by the way."

"You bastard," Chris laughed. "Just tell me her 'cookies' have nothing to do with why you're exhausted."

"Sorry. I may mislead my Captain, but I would never lie to him." Sam paused a beat. "Navesh made a huge dinner for us and then plied me with desserts for the rest of the evening. I'm so stuffed that I'm about ready to slip into a coma - which is my excuse for collapsing in the guest room this evening."

"_Sweet_ dreams, Sam," Pike chuckled, signing off. "Dream of cookies."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Only mentioned in passing, but Gaila did get a nice mini-orgy with the neighbor boys, so she should be in a good mood tomorrow. <em>_ I know it sounds like Giotto was flirting, but that barely counts on Orion and he does want to get on Navesh's good side _- sticking near her should keep the girls from overwhelming him. Of course, the unintended consequences are bound to come back to bite him..._  
><em>

_Many thanks to my beta _**Artemiis Boz**_ - she has a fic up wherein Gaila convinces Nyota to be an Orion for Halloween. I you want to smile, go check it out._

_Reviews are the only cookies fanfic writers get, so please review  
><em>


	5. Morning After

**Morning After**

* * *

><p>Gaila rolled over in bed and nestled under the blanket. No roll call, no classes – it was good to get to sleep in, especially after a whole night of showing her friends what she'd learned out in rest of the Alpha Quadrant. Really she'd been like some kind of ambassador promoting greater intergalactic understanding. It was really satisfying work, but she hadn't been this exhausted since that first night at the Academy when the guys from brother floor had had all those questions about Orion…<p>

"Get up! You'll miss breakfast." A sudden storm of sisters descended on her bed.

"unngh..." Blankets over head - she could grab fruit later and Orion breakfast porridge was something she really did not miss.

"Fine," Jedali huffed. "I guess it's no big deal for you. You have earth breakfasts all the time."

Huh? Gaila peeked out at her sister.

Jedali practically bounced on the bed. "Samuel programmed the replicator to make espresso."

"It was _way_ too strong," Maras jumped in, "so he changed it to cappuccino and now he's making something called pancakes."

"You should see Ama's face - a male cooking!" Davara exclaimed. "I think she's in shock."

"Hold it," Gaila sat up, sleep-fogged brain trying to sort that info dump. It kept stalling on the image of the rigid Commander making pancakes. Maybe this was one of those waking dreams she'd heard about? "Go on. I'll be out in a minute."

The gale of sisters blew back out of the room and Gaila grabbed a robe. After taking a moment to tie her hair back, she emerged in time to see Giotto gently but firmly guide her mother to a seat at the table.

"Good morning," called someone who looked like Giotto but knew how to smile. "Now, come here and explain to your mother that humans of both sexes can operate a frying pan."

"Gaila," Ama looked more at him than at her. "Explain to Samuel that guests are not supposed to work."

Giotto shook his head. "Work is what I do on a starship. This is thanks for allowing me to stay in your home. Guests are supposed to show gratitude." He placed a cappuccino in front of her and turned to Gaila. "Cadet, make your mother sit and relax."

"Sir, yes, sir," Gaila gave a short salute, grinning as he headed back into the kitchen. _And if I may say so, sir, yes, you really did need to get laid._

Her sisters were struggling against a fit of giggles, but Ama still looked at a loss.

Gaila slipped into the seat beside her. "It's okay. I've had lots of human guys make breakfast the next morning." She leaned in whispering conspiratorially, "If you pretend to sleep in, sometimes they even bring you breakfast in bed."

"I _have_ had men show their appreciation before." Ama gave her a reproving look. "But there's no reason for this."

"Trust me, Ama," Gaila chuckled. "Humans don't need pheromones to be grateful."

"I mean," her mother said evenly, "that there's no reason because we only _talked_."

_Huh?_ Gaila wasn't the only one to have that reaction, but the flurry of surprised questions came to an abrupt halt when the kitchen door opened.

Giotto paused a moment, noting the sudden quiet. A mildly amused expression indicated that he was pretty sure it was because he'd been the topic of conversation but had every intention of ignoring the fact. He set a tray of pancakes in the center of the table.

"I promise they're edible. The head of _my_ clan believes very strongly that a grown man should be able to make a decent meal on his own." He looked around as he took a seat. "So... explain to me again what this holiday is about."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto watched the scenery roll by, mentally marking turns and landmarks. There was a party being planned for tonight for a holiday that he still wasn't entirely clear on, but on the pretense of being interested to see an Orion market, he'd volunteered to come along to help Gaila gather (or at least carry) supplies. Not his first choice for an outing, but he'd certainly had to follow people to far less appealing locales while playing bodyguard.

Although he knew intellectually that all of Orion, probably even most of Orion, was not the abode of the pirates and slavers he'd run up against in Starfleet or the shady Syndicate realm that he'd encountered in SI, riding along a peaceful stretch of suburban highway here felt a bit surreal. That was probably a good thing in terms of keeping him on his toes. Much like old earth's Mafia, just because the Syndicate had no obvious presence in an area didn't mean you were safe if they decided to come after you.

The hovercar suddenly slowed and came to stop in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. Sam hadn't heard any noise indicating engine trouble. He raised an eyebrow, looking a question at Gaila.

She removed the key. "I suppose you're wondering why I stopped here."

Ah, Q&A, and of course frakking SI had him was under orders to avoid the A part. Sam glanced around as innocently as he could. "It does appear to be some distance from our destination."

"Why are you here, _Samuel_?" Her tone was less question than accusation.

Sam gave her his best puzzled expression. "Because this is where you stopped the car?"

"That's not what I meant." Her eyes narrowed a little. "You may be a little strange, but you're not stupid."

Giotto suppressed a smile. It had been a long time since he'd been able to get away with 'all muscle, no brains', but he'd hoped that baffled might work. Failing that, 'strange' might give him something to work with.

He widened his eyes. "A little _strange_?"

"You spent last night by yourself." Gaila scowled at him accusingly. "_Why_ aren't you sleeping with my mother?"

"Why -?" Giotto caught himself in a double-take. "What?"

"They sent you here to get Ama to like Starfleet," she stated as though it was perfectly obvious. "Just making breakfast is _not_ going to cut it."

Sam nearly choked. This is what he got for trying to ingratiate himself with the one female in the house who wasn't throwing pheromones at him. _And to think he'd been worried that Gaila was going to ask if he was working for intel_...

"What?" she demanded indignantly.

"I've been asked to do a lot of things for Starfleet, but being a gigolo is _not_ one of them." Talk about surreal. If they'd wanted someone to bed an Orion lady, they'd have sent Chris. Sam had been an agent once, but he'd never been James _frakking_ Bond.

"Then..." Gaila frowned, brows drawing down. "Why _are_ you here?"

"You wanted to come home and there were concerns about the safety of the available commercial routes," he recited. "So, Capt. Pike arranged for private transport."

"They could have assigned a regular pilot or even a cadet who'd passed flight quals," she countered. "Why you?"

He shrugged. "I've been to Orion before."

"And that's why you can resist pheromones?" she asked suspiciously.

"It's a useful skill for doing business here," he explained reasonably. "And Capt. Pike can trust me not to just disappear into some shady dance hall and leave you with no pilot for the way home."

She gave him an uncertain look. "So you're not here because someone's afraid I'm going to sell out to the Syndicate?"

"If anyone's afraid of that, they haven't mentioned it." Giotto tried to look nonplussed while mentally cursing whoever had decided that she couldn't know that the real fear was nearly the exact opposite. This sort of nonsense was the reason he'd gotten out of SI. "Look, I've been in security a long time, so I'd be lying if I said that I haven't seen some of the less savory aspects of your society. But I've also seen enough to know that an awful lot of the stories about Orions being sneaky and untrustworthy are rationalizations by humans who were stupid and gullible."

She weighed that moment. "Really?"

"Really."

"And there's no other reason you're here?" Gaila still sounded skeptical and since he wasn't telling the whole truth, he could hardly blame her.

Sam gave her a small smile, resigning himself to the fact that changing the subject was essential and the best lies contained a dose of truth. "Okay, there is another: dry dock crews hate supervision and I ...like to make sure things are done right. The Captain wanted to make sure I couldn't return to the ship and, in his words, 'stalk the halls, driving the work crews crazy'."

Gaila made an incredulous, but somewhat relieved, sound. "You're kidding."

"No." Giotto let his mouth go sideways. "In fact, after the last time, there _may_ have been a petition to send me somewhere too far away to pop back to the ship to keep an eye on them."

She snorted a sudden laugh. "And being in control _isn't _your kink?"

He shot her a look. "I'd _prefer_ not to have to supervise, but most people sleepwalk through security procedures. If someone doesn't make them pay attention, there's no telling what could happen."

"You know, you're just a _little_ paranoid." She'd relaxed enough to snark at him. That was good.

Giotto folded his arms. "_Someone_ has to be."

"No offense," Gaila chuckled. "But you sound like my mother."

"None taken - your mother's a fine woman," he help up a hand, "which does _not_ mean that I have any intention of seducing her."

She put the key back in the ignition and then grinned, arching her eyebrows. "You could though - I'd be totally okay with it."

"So I've gathered," he replied dryly.

"I'm just saying there's no reason not to," she suggested slyly. "Ama can be a little negative about Starfleet, but I'm pretty sure she likes _you_..."

"Gaila, your mother and I had a pleasant conversation and bid each other good night. That's all." By earth standards, some of the conversation might have counted as flirting, but on Orion it barely passed as polite banter with a bit of flattery. He hadn't offered any suggestions and Navesh hadn't made any offers - which Sam had taken as a fair indication of the limits of her hospitality when it came to someone from Starfleet.

"You just seemed pretty comfortable with her," Gaila observed. "And you _obviously_ need to relax."

Giotto gave her a just-drop-it glare.

"Hey, don't be mad at me - _I'm_ willing to do something about it." Gaila flashed a saucy grin. "But if you won't let me do anything _hands-on_, I'm willing to consult. Ama could definitely stand to have some fun too. And you're both safety nuts – that has to be a plus."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. Every now and then he was tempted to believe in a deity – one who clearly did not like him. Navesh was not unattractive, but he had a mission to focus on here and playing Romeo was _not_ it. Besides, it was bad enough dealing with the friends who thought he should be moving on by now - the very last thing he needed was to have the perky Orion cadet he was supposed to be guarding trying to fix him up with her mother.

"_Drive_, Cadet. This discussion is over."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Chances that the discussion is really over? We are talking about Gaila, who in a year or so will be ignoring her roommate's protests about a certain Vulcan professor...<br>_

_ Yes, I know 'frak' is from a different fandom, but it's been Giotto's default swear word ever since the character appeared in my head a couple years ago. Of course, it's also a favorite of mine (yes, I'm such a geek that my youngest thinks the 'F-word' is either 'frak' or 'frell')._

_This story is a bit different for me, so please review and let me know how I'm doing.  
><em>


	6. Not Over

**Not Over**

* * *

><p>Gaila peeked at Giotto from behind the screen and smiled to herself. The <em>discussion<em> might be over, but that didn't mean the topic was closed. Not by a long shot.

Whatever Giotto had been told about why he was here, Capt. Pike had told her that his friend was all-business and really needed to get away and unwind. The more she'd thought more about it, the more that had sounded like a nice way of saying that the Commander was driving everyone crazy being a complete workaholic**.** Gaila owed Chris a lot, so there was no way she was going to let his friend go back like that.

Seriously, the man was _still_ working on that PADD and the whole time they'd been at the market she'd gotten the distinct impression that he was assessing the threat level of every single person around them. Maybe it was an ingrained security thing, but Samuel_ needed_ to learn how to relax.

He'd loosened up enough to be an (almost) normal human being at breakfast this morning, so it was possible. Bringing that out more might take a little effort, but Orion really was the best place in the universe to unwind - even for people who didn't care for pheromones. Gaila wasn't naive. If he'd been sent to the 'less savory' parts of her planet, he probably had reason to be a little gun shy. But that just meant that the original idea to get him to hook up with Ama was all the more perfect and the party tonight would be the perfect opportunity.

She just needed a little help to make it happen, and that's what sisters were for.

"Excuse me, Commander?" Jedali was the youngest and while she was of age, she had enough of a baby face to appeal to men who liked the innocent young girl type. Gaila seriously doubted that was Giotto, but that wasn't the button they were trying to push here.

He put his PADD down and looked up. "Yes, Jedali."

"I, um..." She bit her lower lip, appearing tentative. "Can I ask you to do something?"

"You can ask." The implication that he might not agree to it was there, but less guarded than Gaila might have gotten.

"It's, well, ...it's one of our neighbors, Sivas. She thinks she's _irresistable_ because she used to be a dancer." Jedali rolled her eyes a little. "If she invites you home tonight, could you please turn her down?"

Giotto's mouth pressed against a smile. "I think I could manage that."

"Good. That _ziltha_ is always making snide remarks about Ama being past her prime. I just couldn't stand it if she got to brag about how she'd lured her guest away."

His brows drew down a little, along with the corners of his mouth. Ha! Samuel didn't like the idea of someone hurting Ama's feelings. It might just be that human chivalry thing, but that could work too. In earth stories, knights and ladies always _did_ hook up in the end.

"Tell you what," he said. "If you point this Sivas out, I'll do my best to brush her off right in front of your mother."

"Thank you!" Jedali bounced happily and threw her arms around him.

Gaila bit her cheeks to keep from betraying her spying with a laugh. Jedali tended to spurt pheromones when she was excited and the Commander, caught by surprise, was uncomfortably trying to back out of a sudden clinch while pinned to his seat.

"That's ..." Giotto cleared his throat, gently untangling an arm, "not necessary."

"Sorry," Jedali backed off, blushing. "I forgot. You're not big on touching."

"It's ...okay." He smiled tolerantly. "I just wasn't quite prepared for it."

She gave him a hesitant smile. "You know, since you're doing something for me, I could be your girl tonight."

Behind the screen Gaila stifled a snicker at Giotto's expression. Yeah, she hadn't thought Jedali was his type, but she'd forgotten that by earth standards her sister fell firmly into the category of jailbait.

"I mean," Jedali explained hurriedly, "we've all seen the holovids where some human men like to focus on just one person. It's, you know, kind of kinky, but people probably wouldn't try to ...touch you... if it looked like you were set on someone that way. It wouldn't have to be for real." She gave him a little grin. "...unless you wanted it to be."

Giotto looked vaguely ill for a moment. Then he gave one of those long breaths and ran a hand over his face, assuming a kindly expression. "That's a ...generous offer, but I'm sure you already have plans with your friends."

"It'd be okay." She shrugged and gave him a sly look. "In fact, it would make me look kinda cool - none of them have been with a human."

Samuel shook his head, faintly amused now. "It wouldn't work. I'm not a very good actor."

"Oh." Jedali's face fell a little. "Well, I still owe you. If you see someone you want, just let me know and I'll herd her over and help you disappear somewhere."

"That won't be necessary," he said, refocusing on his PADD. "I have no plans to do anything but help your mother keep track of you."

_Yes!_ Gaila did a little victory dance in her head. Samuel could deny it all he wanted, but he liked Ama. Now it was just a matter of getting him to act on it. Of course, it might help if she could to get her mother to encourage him a little...

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto closed the door and sat heavily on the bed. It had already been a long day and it was only half over. He opened the relay comm and waited.

"You're calling in early," Pike observed after he finally responded. "What's up?"

"We're going to a party at the local club tonight. There'll be a crowd and I could use extra eyes on the doors. Can you pass word to Granger?"

There was an uncomfortable silence. "Are you sure?"

"_Yes_." If he had to suffer, Chris could too. "And if she bites your head off, remind her that I left SI for a _reason_ and she's welcome to come down here and take over."

"Okay," Chris said in a tone of surrender. There was the was sound of something being scratched on a PADD. "...are you alright, Sam?"

"I was propositioned by a _child,_ Chris, which would have been disturbing enough, but I'm fairly certain that it's part of a plot."

"Syndicate?" Pike's voice went hard with concern.

"Gaila."

There was a distinct pause. "Gaila?"

"She's going to drive me crazy. Earlier today she stopped the car in the middle of nowhere and -"

He was interrupted but an abrupt snort. "Sorry." Chris coughed. "Tell me she didn't 'run out of gas'."

"Oh, we're _way_ past that," Sam shot back. "No, she was upset that I'm not sleeping with her mother, because _apparently_ that's why you sent me out here - to seduce Navesh into approving of Starfleet."

A muffled but suspiciously amused sound came from the other end of the comm.

"There are a _lot_ of matchmaking services," Giotto warned evenly. "It would be _unbelievably_ _easy_ to find adult children looking to hook their mothers up with someone and send them your contact codes."

"Really, Sam, I _never_ said that," Chris pleaded. "I'm sure if you just explain-"

"I _did_ and I thought I'd put it to rest." Giotto rubbed his forehead. "I must be slipping. I didn't even realize until I walked past her sister's room. They haven't quite mastered the art of whispering and it sounds like they've decided to devote the evening to getting me into their mother's bed."

"Karma's a bitch," Chris chuckled. "You know, this serves you right for having me on about her cookies."

Sam frowned at the ceiling. Give up believing in deities and cosmic principles were out there just waiting to get you. "I swear, if we ever meet a god-like being claiming to be Karma, I'm going to punch it out."

"I'll hold it for you," Chris offered sympathetically. "But it's not all bad. If the girls are focused on getting you together with their mother that should make it a lot easier to keep track of everyone at the party."

"I know." Sam leaned back with a resigned sigh. "And all I have to do is toy with a perfectly nice woman who should get to just enjoy her holiday..." He deliberately thunked the back of his head against the wall. "I was _never_ that type of agent."

"It'll be alright, Sam."

"Easy for you to say," he scoffed. "In case you've forgotten, _you're_ the guy who dazzles a woman on every planet._ I'm _the one gets shot trying to keep the rest of the natives from killing you."

"You didn't used to do too badly..." Chris trailed off. When Maria had been alive the sentence would've ended with a teasing 'before you got all domesticated', but now that was better left unsaid. "Besides, Navesh is an older woman, post-pheromonal; she'll probably just be grateful for a little attention."

"If that's pep talk, Chris," he replied flatly. "It's the worst one in the history of motivational speeches."

"How about this: you bluff better than anyone I know. No matter what she looks like, I'm sure you can fake being a _little_ interested."

"Marginally better." Sam puffed wry laugh. "But you've got no idea what you're talking about. Navesh is pretty far from uninteresting."

There was no immediate reply, but you practically could hear the question mark.

"Imagine Gaila in twenty years or so, hair more auburn than red, figure a little softer and rounder... " He paused. Chris had a really good imagination, especially where Orion women were concerned. "Now take that image and double the cleavage."

There was soft exhale, bordering on a whistle. "So, you weren't lying about her cookies."

Sam chuckled. "Not entirely."

"Okay, forgive me for asking this, but why _aren't_ you sleeping with her?"

Of all the captains in Starfleet, he'd had to stick with the comedian. "I hate you Chris. I hope you realize that."

"I know, the strategy to keep everyone in sight will only work for as long as they have to try to get you and Navesh together," he conceded. "But there _is_ always tomorrow…"

Giotto made a serious attempt at sending a glare through a voice-only connection. "I'm _on duty_ until we leave Orion, remember?"

"Yeah." Pike gave a short sigh. "Has it occurred to you that you tend to take the whole not-getting-distracted-on-while-duty thing a little far sometimes?"

"You _said _you needed someone you could _trust._" It came out a bit harsher than intended.

"I did," Chris admitted quietly, apology in his tone. "Seriously, Sam, are you okay?"

He took a breath. "I will be."

Eventually. Admitting to temptation was one thing, but actually pursuing another woman... it would mean really admitting that he wasn't Maria's husband anymore. It was an admission he'd wasn't necessarily ready to make just yet.

"...you know, she'd want you to be happy."

And there was that bitch, Karma, again. How many times had he told Maria he'd want her to go on and be happy if he met the too-common fate of people in his division? As it turned out, it was a much easier thing to say than to do.

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, pushing those thoughts aside. "I know, but that's got no place in this. Keeping everyone together tonight will only work for as long as the girls don't succeed, but they also can't decide that the project's hopeless." He pushed a sharp breath through his nose. "It's fine line and Navesh isn't stupid. In fact, there's an even chance she already knows what her daughters are up to, so the whole idea may be for naught."

"You'll make it work, Sam," Chris assured him. "And I know you. You've always got a back-up plan."

"Yes. That's why I asked you talk to Granger. One way or another, Gaila is likely to be hacked off by the end of the evening. Someone else needs to be ready to keep eyes on her if I wind up _persona non grata_ around here."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Gaila," her mother protested. "I've already picked a dress for tonight."

Gaila tried not to roll her eyes. She'd done a little research and that dress was the same style as all the other middle-aged women there would be wearing. Just in case Samuel had been serious about preferring women his own age, she wanted Ama to stand out.

"This is from _Paris_, Ama."

"It's black." She raised a disapproving eyebrow. The tradition was to wear bright colors.

"It's trimmed in bright red and gold." They were going to look _so_ good together. The Commander probably hadn't packed dress reds for this, but he struck Gaila as the sort of guy who didn't like to think much about clothes, so she was betting he'd stuck to familiar colors for dress civvies.

Her mother eyed the dress critically. "Just around the cut lines."

"Exactly!" Gaila held it up to her in the mirror. "It draws the eye to all right places, don't you think?"

Ama paused a moment, pressing the dress across her chest and waist as she measured her reflection. "I _think_ it's your dress and it'll be too tight on me."

"Tight is _good_."

"Yes, but not if I can't move without falling out of the top."

"That could be good too," Gaila sing-songed with mischievous grin, but relented when her mother made a face. Ama had too much pride for that sort of stunt. "Trust me. It stretches like a _lavosha_ body glove."

She turned a little sideways in the mirror, considering. "You brought this all the way from earth. Don't you want to wear it?"

"Ama, just because I joined Starfleet doesn't mean I've forgotten how to be an Orion. I brought _eight_ dresses."

"But if I take this, you'll only have seven to choose from."

"It's already hard enough to choose." Gaila laughed. "And according to my roommate they're _all_ safety hazards - whenever I wear one them, guys start tripping over their own tongues."

Her mother laughed, shaking her head. "There's still no reason for me to stretch the seams on this one."

_Yotz. _Time to bring out the big guns. "Please, Ama, I want you to take it as ...as an apology."

Her mother looked up, surprised.

"I still think joining Starfleet is the right decision for me, but something the Commander said, well," Gaila looked down. If this didn't get Ama past whatever reluctance she had about jumping someone from Starfleet, nothing would. "It made me realize that you were only trying to protect me. I was wrong to just run off and make you worry like that."

"Oh, Gaila, I _still_ worry." Her mother wrapped an arm around her. "But I'm sorry too. I was trying so hard to keep you safe, and I drove you away instead."

"It's okay, Ama. You didn't drive me anywhere." Gaila was surprised by her own sincerity as she hugged her mother back. Here she'd been fibbing to do a good deed and suddenly she and Ama were actually reconciling. It must be that karma thing she'd heard humans talking about. "I just had to find a place where I could be who _I_ want to be."

"And that place _had_ to be Starfleet?" Ama pulled back with a wry look, but shook her head before Gaila could object. "I suppose it's not all bad. Samuel seems ...very polite. Most Orion men wouldn't have bothered spending so much time with me."

Oh, dear Goddess. Ama hadn't driven her away, but the way local men had started to just ignore her had been a definite factor. In Terran space that would never have happened. There was whole genre of human porn based on older, experienced Orion women. Not to mention the sub-genre where the experienced woman enlisted a guy as a 'teaching tool' for her hot, young daughter... Gaila _really_ had to get her mother to visit her on earth.

Well, first things first. "I don't think he was just being polite, Ama. He knows you don't like Starfleet so he's not going to be obvious about it, but I think he's into you."

"Gaila, that's ridiculous. I have four daughters in their prime. Samuel may understand how to be diplomatic, but he's not crazy."

In Gaila's opinion, 'not crazy' was debatable, but she wasn't going to say it. "Ama, he doesn't like pheromones."

Her mother assumed an expression that suggested Gaila might be the crazy one.

"I know," Gaila rolled her eyes a little. "He won't talk about it, but I think he must have had a really bad experience at some point. My pheromones put him right off on the ship. I mean, it's not like I didn't try. You _saw_ him working out."

A little earlier, she'd noticed Ama spending a long time decorating a particular window and, curious, had joined her on the ladder to have a look. It was a nice view - almost as good as when she'd hacked the vids from the instructors' gym at boot camp (Gaila still couldn't believe that her bunkmates thought she'd been trying to find out what drills they were planning. Some people had absolutely no sense of priorities). Judging by the little sigh when Giotto had taken his shirt off, Gaila figured her mother was more willing to look past the uniform than she'd been letting on.

"He does ...move well," Ama admitted with a small smile.

"Which is why you should wear this dress! Human men are _really_ visual and if he likes women his own age..."

Her mother frowned. "Gaila, you were eavesdropping."

"I learned from the best." Gaila grinned at her and held the dress back up.

"I don't know..."

She really hadn't wanted to do this, but like her tactics professor said, sometimes sacrifices had to made. Gaila reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of gorgeous cherry red stilettos. "These go with it."

Ama's eyes lit up. She might or might not have been lusting after the Commander, but the heels had definitely gotten her attention.

"Do you know what they call these on earth?" Gaila asked with a mischievous grin. "'Fuck me heels'."

Her mother put a hand under the shoes, examining them covetously. "You know, the Federation might have a few good points after all..."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Bonus points to anyone who gets the <em>Farscape_ reference.  
><em>

_Thanks as always to my beta,_ **Artemiis Boz**.

_Please r&r_


	7. Yellow Alert

**Yellow Alert**

* * *

><p>Giotto looked around the crowded social hall. You didn't survive as long as he had in Security without developing a sixth sense for trouble and his had been signaling 'yellow alert' ever since they'd entered the building.<p>

Of course, the person he was supposed to be guarding was actively conspiring to lead him into temptation, so some degree of trouble was to be expected. The crammed conditions in the hall were also contributing to his sense of unease. Over the years, Giotto had worked more than his share of crowd control and in his experience a throng of people could turn into an unruly mob with remarkably little provocation. Of course, a crowd awash in pheromones seemed more likely to devolve into an orgy than an angry rabble. It would make for a particularly difficult evening either way.

"And this is Balmur. I think you may have seen him at the market today?"

To make matters worse, he was being introduced around. It wasn't that Giotto was anti-social. It was just that he regarded having to exchange empty pleasantries with complete strangers the way most people regarded having a root canal. He plastered a friendly look on his face and nodded. "Yes, you had the shop with the specialty spice counter."

Balmur looked surprised. "You're quite observant. Most outsiders barely notice my little stand."

"Cooking is a hobby," Giotto lied. "So I always notice rare ingredients." Especially ones that came from _Q'onoS_. Orion merchants frequently played middle man for galactic powers that avoided trading directly, so Klingon items weren't necessarily unusual in Orion markets. However, if you'd ever had to eat _gagh_, you couldn't help but notice the seasoning packets.

"Samuel made breakfast for us this morning," Navesh put in, twining a hand around his arm.

That was another part of the evening that was making him a bit uneasy. Sam had expected Navesh to brush him off after a bit of polite conversation, leaving him free to check the perimeter, find a good spot for observation, and force the girls to work at herding them back together. However, Navesh seemed to be playing a different game - one that wasn't sitting well with the fat merchant in front of them.

Balmur's face took on a pinched look. "Cooking is a strange hobby for a _man_."

The comment struck Sam as having very little to do with conservatism about gender roles, but he chose to ignore it. He had nothing to prove here, especially to a man he could probably flip as easily as a pancake.

"Human attitudes are different," Navesh countered. "And I find some of them very pleasing." She smiled, placing her other hand on Sam's chest, a position that caused a particularly soft portion of her anatomy to press against him.

That was an entirely different sort of torture. Giotto reminded himself that he was on duty and smiled back at her. In a few more days he'd be free to spend as much time as he liked making Chris's life an appropriate form of hell.

"I suppose he selected that dress as well," Balmur remarked. He was trying for a sneer, but it was coming across more like a pout.

"It is from earth." Navesh straightened and swept the hand away from Sam's chest to better display her outfit. "But this was a gift from my daughter."

That figured. He had to admire Gaila's grasp of strategy. Ever since some senile admiral had signed off on the uniform miniskirt, Sam, like most male officers, had developed a certain level of immunity to short skirts and exposed legs. Nicely displayed breasts, on the other hand, were an entirely different matter.

"Oh! Samuel, listen," Navesh remarked suddenly. "I love this song."

He glanced at the dance floor and ducked his head, affecting embarrassment. "I'm afraid I don't know the dance." And wouldn't attempt it even if he did. Wading into that sea of gyrating bodies was definitely not on his agenda.

"I could teach you," she coaxed. "It's not hard."

No, but with her pressed against him, moving like that, he easily could be, and that was also not on the agenda. Sam shook his head, allowing a bit of regret in his voice, "I'm a fighter, not a dancer."

"I'd be glad to dance," Balmur volunteered, holding a hand out to Navesh.

"Please, don't let me keep you from enjoying the song." Sam touched her lightly, using the one dance move he at which he was well-practiced: the gesture to go on without him.

Navesh went, a bit hesitantly, and Sam retreated to a serving table. Before scanning the melee of partiers to check on the others, he briefly considered which utensils could best be used as weapons (what other people called 'paranoid', Giotto called 'thinking ahead').

Someone tapped his shoulder. "Why did you let Balmur take that dance?" Jedali asked, sounding a bit perturbed.

Giotto pursed his lips. "He and your mother seemed to have a prior relationship."

"Emphasis on _prior_," she huffed. "Anyway, that jerk acts like he's doing Ama a favor by spending time with her now."

Ah, that explained a lot. No merchant liked to see competition for goods he'd been getting at a fraction of their worth. Sam gave her a half-smile. "He appears to have reconsidered his attitude."

"Not enough," Jedali insisted and then gave him a sly grin. "Besides, I'm sure she'd rather dance with you. Go on - cut in."

Sam shook his head. "I don't dance."

"Oh, _please_!" Jedali objected with a very teenage expression. "You move like a _thircat_. How can you not dance?"

"Thircats are swift, agile predators." Giotto shrugged and picked up a canapé. "But I don't think they dance either."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila surveyed the club social hall, brows drawn down in frustration. There was a human idiom about herding cats that she was pretty sure should apply here. Davara was with Ama, but on the wrong side of the room. Jedali was supposed to be handling the mix for spiking the Giotto's drink, but she was nowhere to be seen. Maras had been in charge of keeping track of Giotto, but she'd gotten distracted by a guy in really tight pants (okay, the guy had a great ass, so it was understandable, but still...) and now Giotto had apparently vanished.

That last part in particular was going to be a real problem in terms of their plans for tonight. Gaila scanned the room again. There were only two humans in here. How could the taller of the two be so hard to find? Deciding it was time to fall back on her Academy training, Gaila walked the perimeter of the room checking blind spots.

There - Giotto was standing near the wall looking like part of the shadow from a giant floral arrangement. _Ozdat_. He looked really good in that dark suit, but if she'd known he was going to use it to hide, she would have made up some cultural BS to get him put on bright colors like everyone else.

She caught Davara's eye and signaled her to herd Ama this way before continuing toward him. "Samuel!"

He glanced in her direction, nodded and then went eyes-forward, watching the hall.

Gaila smirked. She'd begun to take the degree to which the Commander wouldn't look at her as a measure. And yes, she _did_ look exceptionally hot tonight. In fact, if Ama didn't need to have a little fun almost as much as Samuel did, she'd be tempted to take another run at those lines he wouldn't cross, just to see...

She stopped next to him. "Why are you hiding here?"

"I'm not hiding," he replied, as if lurking next to a giant fern was a perfectly normal thing to be doing at a party, "just observing."

"Observing." What was wrong with the man? "This is a party. You're supposed to participate - eat, talk, dance," she swept hand a palm upward at the scene, "you know, have fun?"

He smiled, still watching the crowd. "I think that's what _you're_ supposed to be doing, Cadet."

"Hello! Mr. Stalks-the-halls-and-drives-people-crazy, _you're_ supposed to be relaxing."

"I am relaxing." Giotto lifted his drink slightly and leaned back against the wall, affecting a pose that might have passed for relaxed if his eyes weren't alert and sweeping the room.

Oh for Vardot's sake! He was in Security mode. Someone really needed to install an off-duty button. Although, come to think of it, that was pretty much the plan for tonight.

"Holding up a wall is no way to unwind." Gaila took hold of his arm and pulled.

He didn't budge.

Right. Veteran Security guy with a sky-high combat rating - he probably knew some ninja trick to root himself to the floor. Well, she had a few tricks too. Gaila reversed direction, pressing up against him. "That is, unless you want to hold _me_ against the wall. Here in the shadows ... in a noisy, crowded room, it won't even matter if we're loud..."

Suddenly she was off her feet, swept around, back planted against the wall, and -

He let go and backed away, two quick steps like a prize fighter sliding back from a clinch. Standing in the open now, Giotto straightened his jacket and raised an eyebrow. "There, I'm away from the wall. Happy?"

Yeah, he'd known exactly what she was doing, but if he thought she was going to take that response as some kind of warning, he was _so_ wrong. Gaila grinned, gliding toward him. "I _could_ be happier, and so could you. But if you're not into public places..."

"Definitely not." He glanced upward - an expression somewhere between an eye roll and a long-suffering look.

"Then you should get out there," she advised, advancing to drive him on a course to intersect with Ama. "Find _some_ way to enjoy yourself."

"My dear, you are so right," a feminine voice chimed in.

_Chastity!_ Gaila swore under her breath. That guy in tight pants had better be the best conquest of her sister's soon-to-be limited life, because Maras was supposed to have taken over watching for Sivas and that harpy wasn't supposed to get within three meters of Samuel until he was right next to Ama. She looked around with a clench-toothed smile. "Sivas, what a surprise."

"I just _had_ to see you, dear. It was _such_ a surprise that you'd come back." She turned to Giotto, eyes sweeping him from boots upward. "And you brought a friend."

Gaila resisted rolling her eyes. Could the woman be any less subtle? "Sivas, this is Samuel. He's in Starfleet too."

"So pleased to meet you, Samuel," she purred, opening her arms.

"And you, ma'am." Giotto straightened, tucking a hand at the base of his spine - becoming the very image of a proper stone-faced officer.

Gaila bit her cheeks to keep from laughing. By his own admission, the Commander had been on Orion a few times before, so he had to know exactly how rude he was being, but as an alien, and presumably ignorant, he could get away with it.

Sivas hugged him anyway and he rolled his eyes, a clear signal that he understood situation completely. He patted Sivas' shoulder before stepping back. "Forgive me. I didn't realize you were from Gaila's clan. You must be the great-aunt she's mentioned."

"Great-aunt?" The expression that flashed on Sivas' face was priceless.

"No, that was _K_iva_st_, but don't feel bad; it's a _completely_ understandable mistake." Gaila smiled at him, playing along. Samuel was obviously a man of hidden depths, because hidden somewhere deep inside 'Cmdr. Giotto' was a guy with a wonderfully vicious sense of humor.

"Well, I'm sure someone's told you that we Orions don't show our age," Sivas remarked, touching her cheek self-consciously. "Really, I'm far too young."

"As you say, ma'am," he agreed in a non-committal tone.

"Sivas," she insisted with a coquettish smile as she laced a hand around his arm. "I used to dance in Akorion. I'm not used to Starfleet men being so formal."

Giotto looked at her, dead sober. "Then I apologize for the poor manners of my comrades."

"So adorably naive," Sivas laughed and looked at Gaila. "Really, dear, I'm surprised at you. I mean, I knew your mother would never show him any real hospitality-"

"Navesh has been an exceptional hostess," Giotto objected, removing his arm from her hold.

Gaila glanced across a row of tables. Her mother was looking their way. She wouldn't be able to hear from over there, but she was close enough for body language and the Commander was speaking it loudly.

"Oh, I'm sure she's cooked some lovely meals," Sivas allowed, reaching up to touch his cheek and spraying pheromones like a cat marking territory. "But _I_ could show you why a man shouldn't live by bread alone."

Samuel stepped back, eyes focusing briefly somewhere behind her. He smiled. "I've been entirely satisfied with everything Navesh has offered."

Dear Goddess, where had _this_ Samuel been hiding? Gaila turned and grabbed a drink from a passing waiter so she could mouth 'Get over here _now' _at Davara.

"Satisfied? Navesh is very nice of course," Sivas' tone tried for hesitant but hit closer to schadenfreud, "but, she's, well..."

Giotto tipped his head to the side, as though he couldn't work out what was she was implying.

"I mean, she's..." Sivas waved a hand in a vague circular motion front of her, as though uncertain how to put it.

"Ah." Samuel lifted his eyebrows slightly. "On earth, the term you're looking for would be 'stacked'."

Gaila choked on her drink, momentarily derailing the conversation. "I'm ::cough:: fine," she insisted, thumping her chest. "_Please_, go on."

Sivas looked puzzled. "Stacked - what an odd term for losing one's pheromones."

"Oh it's got nothing to do with that," Giotto laughed. "And I couldn't care less anyway. My body chemistry's a little off on that score - pheromones have about as much effect as perfume."

"You poor man! How dreadful."

"It's not so bad." His eyes slid across the room toward Ama and small smile formed - a look as close to lascivious as anything Gaila had yet to see on his face. "There's nothing wrong with my vision. Or my mind - I've always preferred a woman I could _admire_."

Zing! - And to add insult to injury he continued to stare in Ama's direction as though mesmerized. Swallowing a smile, Gaila stepped a little closer to Sivas and whispered "It's a human thing. Sometimes the men get fixated. I can hardly get him to look at me since he met Ama."

"Yes, uh, ...Well, yes, _of course_," Sivas agreed shaking off dismay. "I've had _dozens_ of men absolutely obsess over me! I could hardly get rid of some of them. Your poor mother - but at least you'll take him back to earth before he becomes a burden." She retreated with a quick wave. "We'll talk later."

Gaila demonstrated immense restraint, waiting a whole three beats after Sivas walked off before exclaiming "Commander! You have a sense of humor!"

"Not everyone would call it that, Cadet." A soft rumble in his chest belied the serious demeanor he trying to resume. "I believe you're aware that your sister made a request of me. I hope that you'll inform her that I acted on it." He turned and started to walk away.

"Hold on." Gaila put a hand out to detain him. "Why were you worried about my pheromones if they don't affect you?"

Giotto gave her a wry look. "Cadet, on the way here you regaled me with a whole catalog of things you'd learned about human men, but you appear to have missed one extremely important characteristic."

She raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

"We lie." He shot the rest of his drink, handed the glass to her, and headed for a side door. "I'm going to get some fresh air now."

Gaila started to laugh, but then headed after him. "Wait. What you said about Ama - were you lying?"

"Your mother truly has been an exceptional hostess," he replied without looking back.

"I mean, when you said she was stacked."

Samuel paused mid-stride. "Objectively, no." He gave her a small smile as he stepped through the door. "But if you tell her that I said that, you'll find out exactly how _sincerely_ I can lie."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto stepped outside, leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. The drugs to dull the effects of pheromones were working, but they had their limits. He was also beginning to wonder if they had unexpected side effects.

_Stacked?_ Had he really said that?

It was something he might _think_, but not the sort of thing that he would ever _actually_ say. At least not in front of the subject's daughter - particularly not when that daughter was Gaila.

Yet the whole scene had gone from thought to action with as little filter as if he'd been drunk on Antarean gin - which was not the embarrassing stumbling-and-slurring-your-words sort of drunk, but the far more dangerous completely-functional-but-uninhibited sort of drunk. For someone with Giotto's body mass (and drinking experience) that took a _lot_ of Antarean gin and he'd had only one fairly mild mixed drink. Being drunk in any sense shouldn't be even a remote possibility.

...except that that one drink had been handed to him. '_The pretty young thing who offers you a drink has probably drugged it_.' He knew that, but he'd accepted the drink anyway because that pretty young thing had been Jedali. At the time, the idea that Gaila's baby sister would drug him had seemed overly paranoid even for him.

Of course, Jedali probably hadn't meant any harm - had in fact probably done it 'for his own good' if Gaila was behind this - but who knew how it might have combined with what he'd already been taking? The fact that Navesh had unexpectedly become more kindly disposed toward him had already complicated matters. Not to mention the fact that she was wearing a dress that appeared to have been painted on by an artist who'd run out of paint well before finishing the neckline - undoubtedly why 'stacked' had jumped to mind. The plan for this evening would be in real trouble if his self-control was slipping.

At least there was back-up out here somewhere. Sam pushed away from the wall and began a circuit of the building, watching for signs of surveillance to focus his mind. By three quarters of the way around, he'd decided that whoever was out here was good. He knew all the places to look, but hadn't spotted a single watcher yet. He circled a little farther than the door he'd come out of - just to be sure - and re-entered the club.

Quickly scanning the hall, he noted Jedali dancing with her friends and Davara and Navesh not far from the door he'd originally exited. A little further off Gaila and Maras seemed to be having an intense discussion - the sort that involved a lot of hair tossing and squaring of shoulders. Taking in the body language and considering that he was probably impaired, Giotto made a quick tactical decision and faded into the shadows. His job was to keep Gaila safe from the Syndicate. When it came to cat fights, she was on her own.

* * *

><p><em>AN:<em> _Q'onoS is the Klingon homeworld and gagh is a dish made with live serpent worms._

_Yes, 'chastity' is a swear word on Orion. Why does this surprise you?_

_Many thanks to my beta,_ **Artemiis Boz,** _who found the time to go over this despite end-of-semester pressure. _

_The evening will hit 'red alert' soon._

_Please r&r_


	8. Red Alert

**Red Alert**

* * *

><p>From his vantage on the edge of the hall, Giotto split his attention between the crowd and Gaila's family. It wasn't quite a ring-side seat, but he'd be lying if he said that the posturing between Gaila and Maras wasn't amusing. Of course, some not-quite-sober part of his mind kept supplying bits of old movie dialogue that the more rational part knew they couldn't possibly be saying ("I'm always serious, 007"). It definitely enhanced the entertainment value. More importantly, it helped steer his thoughts away from avenues they absolutely should not venture down.<p>

...like the fact that Navesh had just looked outside again, probably for him, and it would be really easy to slip back out and let her find him...

No. Full stop. Besides, there were agents out there watching and if anything like that got back to Granger she'd never let him live it down.

At least he was clear-headed enough to realize that. Whatever had been in his drink had produced a tendency to act without waiting for input from his brain, and he was willing to bet there'd been a mild aphrodisiac in the mix, but it wasn't as bad as he'd initially feared. More like revisiting the downsides of being 20 while still stuck in a body on the high side of 40. Hardly ideal, but manageable.

Sam pushed his attention back to the hall. The one blessing in a large crowd was that it was easy to avoid looking too closely at individuals. Most of the women were dressed in very little, so viewing the crowd as a kinetic puzzle with a complex pattern of motion made watching the room a lot easier.

He glanced back to check on Gaila again and froze. Navesh was heading straight toward him and there was no good way to disappear. She'd already noticed him looking and altered her stride. Talk about patterns of motion...

Forcing his eyes away, Giotto reminded himself firmly that her only interest in him was to provoke someone else's jealousy and it had to stay that way.

"Samuel, are you alright?" Navesh stopped in front of him, examining his face with concern.

"Yes," he assured her. "I just needed some fresh air."

She put a hand on his shoulder, tilting her head. "You looked flushed."

Well, you're standing really close... "I think the punch disagreed with me," he admitted. "But I'm fine now."

Or at least in better shape than expected. At 20 keeping his eyes off the impressive décolletage in front him would have been next to impossible.

"Are you sure?" Navesh leaned in suddenly, face almost against his neck.

Sam felt the heat in his body rise. If this had been Gaila, he would have immediately pulled back. He almost did anyway, but it suddenly hit him that Navesh was taking his scent - checking if he was alright, the way a human would lay a hand on someone's forehead to check for fever. Which could still be a problem; he was beginning to feel extremely warm. "Really, I -"

A soft inhalation turned into a nuzzle and Giotto was alarmed to find that his hands had gone to her waist, apparently of their own accord. Navesh raised her face to his, a soft smile on her lips. "I could bring you home if you want to lie to down."

He literally bit his tongue to keep 'yes, please' from passing his lips. _Focus, Sam. You're on Duty_. Unfortunately, duty meant that he couldn't just retreat and if she could tell as much by scent as he thought, she had to know that he didn't want to. Giotto took a breath. There were times when he really hated his job.

Smiling a little, he ran a finger along a lock of hair by her ear, studying the highlights. "The evening's young and I know you'll be happier if you know the girls are home safe first."

"You're an unusual man, Samuel." Navesh shook her head with a sly smile. "I think that's why I like you." She lifted her eyebrows a little. "Although I wish you'd dance."

Giotto laughed. This had to be the first time in his life that he'd ever felt relieved at the prospect of dancing. One hand was still on Navesh's waist. He took her hand in the other and stepped back into the sort of formal dance hold appropriate for a diplomatic event. "I'm afraid a box step is the best I can do."

After a couple boxes, Navesh gave in to a laugh. "I _could_ teach you an Orion dance."

He shook his head and dropped the hand from her waist, bowing slightly. "I only learned this much because Starfleet made me. Go and dance, Navesh. I'm perfectly happy to watch from the sidelines."

"Just watch?" She arched an eyebrow playfully.

"For now," Sam smiled, letting his eyes wander just a little. Fate or karma or whatever owed him at least that. Balmur was already headed this way to cut in, so chances were that this was the last time he'd see her up close in that dress.

Navesh turned a little, giving him a teasing smile. "Are you sure I can't persuade you?"

"Not sure all," Giotto admitted. "But I'd really hate to step wrong and ruin those heels."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Enough already!"

Davara made the nearly suicidal decision to step between her bickering sisters.

Gaila glared. "This is between me and her."

"Hmphf," Davara crossed her arms. "Orions are supposed to be known for our cool-headedness, except, _apparently_, the red-headed ones."

"Don't start," Gaila and Maras snapped almost in chorus.

Davara smirked, nodding to the left. "You've been so busy going after each other that you haven't even noticed the argument's moot."

Huh? Gaila looked left and nearly laughed. It looked like Ama had taken matters into her own hands. Her arms were draped around Giotto's shoulders and he had a hand on her waist while the other toyed with a lock of her hair.

How about that? He really did prefer women his own age. Or at least ones who were 'stacked'. Gaila smiled gleefully to herself. She was _so_ going to call him on that later.

"What are they _doing_?" Maras asked.

"Oh, no." Gaila pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. A formal Sector 1 waltz - what was he thinking? More importantly, where had the liquid grace of those 'fighting forms' gone? The Commander waltzed like a Vulcan. In fact, a Vulcan probably wouldn't be that stiff.

_Chastity, Abstinence, and Celibacy__!_ Ama was walking away. Worse yet, that self-centered prick, Balmur, was headed straight toward her. Gaila rounded on Maras. "She would have tried harder if she'd seen the way he brushed off Sivas!"

"Hey, it's not my fault your Commander can't dance!..."

Davara sighed. Whenever she started having kids, she was _never_ going to have two with the same father. Gaila and Maras were all the evidence as she needed that it was a bad idea for people with that much genetic material in common to be under the same roof.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto settled back into the shadows, telling himself that it was for the best. And at least he had gotten out of dancing. Maria had once accused him of turning 'not dancing' into an art form and it was more or less true. He was actually quite good at the sort of dances that didn't require a fixed partner, but couples dances always struck him as either small talk set to motion or too public a display what he preferred remain private. Hence, he had gotten pretty good at being pretty bad at dancing.

His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a human man in an incredibly loud vest and striped pants.

"Hi," The young man said with an overly serious look for that preamble. "I'm Bill. I think you may have been looking for me earlier."

Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow. Another human was an uncharacteristically conspicuous choice for a contact, and in that outfit, Bill was very conspicuous. "You're the only other human here. If I'd been looking, I think I would have found you."

"I mean..." the young man began and then gave an exaggerated wink, "'We have a mutual friend'."

Giotto crossed his arms. If that 'friend' was named Dahlia Granger, he was going to be tempted to hit something and he didn't like this kid's chances if he couldn't stop himself. "Right. Just give me the basics. How many others are here?"

"Just me," he replied nonplussed.

"_Just_ you?"

"Sorry. It's a busy night. I'm all they could send."

The evening just kept getting worse. "Okay. Do you have any idea who we should be watching for?"

"Honestly, there's no indication that anything's going to go down here." Bill looked around and grinned. "But this sure is nice duty. I'll be glad to _handle_ that hot redhead if - Ow!"

Sam looked in surprise at the hand that had just smacked Bill across the back of the head. It was the sort of impulse he'd learned to control so long ago that restraining it was normally automatic. Not good.

"Alright, she's yours." Bill held a hand up in surrender. "I just figured you and that foxy mom - OW! Stop that!"

Okay, he probably could have stopped that one, but the kid had deserved it. Besides it had felt really good. "Look, Bill, we're here to _guard_ them. Period. Keep your mind out on the job."

"Jeez, lighten up. We don't have any reason to think that chick needs guarding." Bill straightened his gaudy vest. "Granger wouldn't even have pulled me off a desk if your captain hadn't been so insistent about it."

Giotto felt his eyebrows rise. "Pulled you off a desk? You're not a field agent?"

"I _am_," he insisted defensively. "I just got promoted."

_Frak_. Sam slammed a fist backward, hammering the wall. "I don't believe it. That witch saddled me with a _virgin_."

"Hey, I've been on Orion for a month. I'm not-" Bill stopped dead at the look Sam gave him. "...oh. I guess this is sort of my first time." He rubbed the back of his head and muttered "I guess I shouldn't have expected it to be gentle."

Giotto scowled. "If that's as rough as it gets, kid, be grateful."

Bill scowled back. "Look, you may be the 'old hand' here, but you've been in regular security for years. _I'm_ the one in the organization and I've seen the data. This night is _not_ going to get rough," he stated, obviously trying to regain some sort of upper hand by playing the 'I'm the agent here' card.

Sam was distinctly unimpressed. "_Someone_ in your organization decided Gaila needed protection and we're going to protect her. Understood?"

"You realize that, jurisdictionally, _I'm_ the one who should be giving orders here?"

Giotto narrowed his eyes and then had to suppress a laugh at how quickly the agent stepped back.

"But I'm willing to defer to your greater field experience," Bill amended hastily.

Something caught his eye and Giotto looked away, actively studying the room. Having long ago perfected the art of watching his surroundings while carrying on a conversation, he'd had half an eye on it through most of the exchange. Something was wrong out there. Something in the pattern of movement was off.

"...Sir?"

He half lifted a hand in a subtle signal to wait. It took a moment to zero in, but then he saw it: a tall man who looked like an Orion, but didn't move like one. The woman beside him moved naturally, which had masked it, but the man's stride was too linear, too direct.

"Bill, you say there's nothing going on here," Giotto tipped his head very slightly in the direction of the couple. "What do you make of that?"

Bill looked, a little too obviously, and started to shrug. "I don't- " He stopped as the woman tapped her companion's arm and leveled a finger toward Gaila. The man nodded and touched something in his jacket before moving purposefully through the crowd. "...oh shit."

"Exactly." Sam watched as the couple split and the pattern became clear. The man would cause a disturbance, enough for confusion and panic. It was easy to do with a jam-packed crowd. Even if every individual present was calm, intelligent, and well-disciplined, a crowd itself was invariably a stupid, excitable beast. When people started running, the woman would 'help' the prey to an exit and then right into a trap.

His first duty was to protect Gaila, and he could probably get her, Navesh, Maras and Davara out. But Jedali was in the middle of the dance floor. If the crowd panicked, she could be trampled, along with a lot of other innocent people. Whatever disturbance that man had planned, it had to be stopped before it happened.

Giotto considered sending Bill, but quickly thought better of it. If he was predisposed to hit people tonight, he ought to direct it at the bad guys. He looked toward Gaila and her other sisters. "Agent, I need you to get the three of them to the House, preferably with their mother." He indicated where Navesh was dancing not too far from the others.

"Me?" Bill's eyes went a little wide. "They don't know me. What-"

"Give this to Gaila." He took his phaser out and handed it to Bill.

"Aren't you going to need that?"

"It's too crowded to use it in here, but she might need it outside." He watched Bill carefully pocket the phaser. "Tell Gaila there _is_ another reason I'm here. She's to go with you and I'll explain everything once everyone's safe."

"But what are you going to do?"

He nodded toward Jedali, dancing happily with her friends in the middle of the crowd. "Make sure everyone's safe."

* * *

><p><em>AN: A little cliff hanger before the holidays. In fact, Gaila arguing with her sister was somewhat inspired by anticipating a holiday gathering.<em>

_Many thanks as always to my beta,_ **Artemiis Boz**, _and to everyone who has been reviewing. It always spurs my writing to hear from you._

_Please r&r_


	9. Party Over

**Party Over**

* * *

><p>Giotto straightened his jacket and headed toward his target, grabbing a glass of whatever came to hand along the way. Adjusting to approach on an oblique angle, he quicken his pace and rammed straight into the man's side, tossing as much of the drink over as much of the guy's chest as possible.<p>

"Oh, sorry, I didn't see you." Sam brushed at the liquid as a cover for feeling for whatever was hidden in the man's vest. Hmm, hard, curved-

"You idiot!" the man roared, shoving him back.

"I said I'm sorry." Sam reached in and started to open the front of the vest. "I can get this cleaned-"

"Get _off_." The man shoved him again, harder.

Sam moved back toward him, hands lifted peaceably. "Look, I was trying to fix this."

"Don't bother." Another shove. "Imbecile."

Giotto let himself bristle. "Hey, it's not like I hit you." He narrowed his eyes, getting right in the guy's face. "Yet."

"Out of my way, _human_." The Orion sneered, starting to push past.

Sam grabbed his arm. "You want to take this outside, mister?"

"You're not worth it."

The man shook his arm free and aimed another shove, but Giotto took a side step, dodging the push and planting himself squarely in the man's path. He grinned. It had been _decades_ since he'd let himself indulge in this sort of belligerence. "Is that so?"

"_Yes_." The big man grabbed his lapels and literally lifted him off his feet.

It was clearly meant as an intimidating display of size and strength, so Sam did his best not to smile. He loved it when a bigger opponent pulled something like this. His adversary's hands and feet locked up while his were completely free. So many strikes zones, wide open and undefended!

Unfortunately, maiming the guy would be hard to explain. He needed to limit this to just enough of a scuffle for the club bouncers to come and throw them both out. Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't rough him up a little...

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"What?" Gaila spun, glaring at the stranger who'd interrupted giving her sister a piece of her mind. She'd been on a roll and was just about to redirect her fury to this interloper when he interrupted _again_.

"I'm sorry, but I need you and your sisters to get your mother to come with me." He sounded like he was trying to imitate one of those old earth police dramas, but he was dressed like he'd been attacked by a color-blind tailor.

Maras crossed her arms and smirked. "Yeah, I bet you do. Trust me, you'll have better luck over by the bar."

"That's not-," He stopped, turned back to Gaila and started again. "Cadet, Cmdr. Giotto sent me."

She cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "And I'm supposed to believe that just because you're a human too? Nice try."

"Please," he slipped something out of his vest, keeping it concealed in his palm and held it out to her. "He said to give this to you and tell you that there is another reason he's here."

Gaila took it it cautiously - a phaser and Starfleet issue. _Ozdat_. No wonder Giotto had acted like was on duty all the time. He was. "Where is he?"

"He's going to buy us some space and then make sure your other sister gets out alright." The man touched her arm, lowering his voice to a whisper. "There are at least two operatives after you here and there may be more outside. I have a car near the corner exit. We need to get there as quickly and quietly as possible."

_"Put. Him. Down. Now!" _

Her mother's voice rang across the room. They turned to see Ama bristling with wrath and striding in the direction of what Gaila figured was supposed to be a diversion.

Bill's mouth twisted as he took off after her. "So much for quietly."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto's feet hit the ground so suddenly that he had to take a step backward to keep his balance. Frak. He looked over and saw Bill shrug helplessly from a few steps behind where Navesh stood with her hands on her hips. It was hard not appreciate a 'Voice of Mom' equal to any command tone he'd ever heard, but this was going to seriously complicate matters.

Worse, the effect of that tone was short-lived. His opponent scowled, rounding on Navesh with a raised hand. "This is none of your business, b-"

The last word was cut short by Sam's fist.

"Get them out of here!" he ordered, ducking a return blow to shoot a glare at Bill before spinning behind the other man to shove him in the opposite direction.

The man came back at him swinging a haymaker. For a big guy, he was fast and stronger than most Orions. Giotto rotated inward with the block, slamming an elbow into his opponent's ribs before springing back to aim a kick at his knee. The man jumped out of the way, and then rushed in with a strike from a style Giotto hadn't expected. Only reflex saved him. His opponent wasn't just a Syndicate goon; he was a trained warrior.

Sam launched himself at the man with an enthusiasm that would have shocked all but his oldest friends. He'd been resisting acting like he had at 20 for over an hour. Now he could give in completely, throwing himself into the fight and letting trained reflexes take over. He wasn't in any state for the zen 'no mind' that he usually fell into, but the pure exhilaration of a fight had kept him alive long before he'd learned zen.

Taking a blow to the shoulder, he turned with the impact to throw a side kick. Sam smiled at the feel of solid contact. He was probably going to be in a police cell by the end of the night, but the bad guy was going to be in one too. By then Gaila and her family should be safe in SI custody.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila watched Giotto slug that big ogre right in the kisser. If the situation hadn't been so serious, she would've cheered. Maras and Davara did cheer. Once this was all over and he was _really_ off duty, Samuel was definitely getting laid for that. Gaila spared a brief thought to wonder if whoever was hiding behind his on duty persona would go for everyone in the guest bed like she'd originally suggested.

Of course, first they had to get Ama out of here. Bill ran forward at the Commander's barked order and took her arm.

"Ma'am, we have to go."

Navesh slapped him. "Don't 'ma'am' me - get in there and help him!"

Bill looked at two experienced combatants going at each other and swallowed. Gaila could almost read the thought that if stepping into that didn't kill him, the Commander probably would for disobeying orders.

"Come on, Ama," she said. "It'll throw Samuel off if he has to worry about us."

Giotto was dodging in and out, harrying the bigger man like a _rhysihawk_ at a _griffonel_. There was a bruise growing across one cheek bone, but the Commander wore a strangely exultant smile.

"Besides, I think this is his kind of dance."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto calculated the distance to the table behind him and waited until the last minute to roll to the side, leaving the man rushing him to crash into a big bowl lavendar colored mush. Sam danced back, sparing a glance to note that Gaila had Jedali with her now and they were all almost at an exit.

The big Orion rose, wiping pastel goo from his face. "Stand and fight, you coward!"

Perfect. Normally Giotto would have ended this more quickly, but he'd been buying time for Bill to get the others out (or Gaila to get Bill and her family out - he had a feeling Gaila was the better bet there). Most real fights didn't last more than a couple minutes, so Sam had been using every trick and evasion he knew to keep this one going. Plus, he'd sort of been enjoying it. He'd been wanting to hit someone for _days_.

The fight had drawn quite a few spectators by now, which was keeping the club rent-a-cops from getting through. Not that they were trying very hard. The men converging toward them had made the same calculation Bill had earlier, so they were each trying to move just a little slower than the rest so that they wouldn't have to be the first one to step between the combatants.

It was time to end things. Giotto waited for the next opportunity, which came as a flattened fist aimed to crush his larynx. He turned out of the way and grabbed the wrist as it went past, simultaneously wrapping his other arm over the man's elbow and twisting the wrist. Stepping forward, he quickly dropped to one knee, forcing his opponent down with shoulder, elbow and wrist painfully locked.

"Who are you?" Giotto hissed, twisting just enough to bring joints to the edge of dislocation.

The man arched with pain, then spat "Your death."

Too late, Giotto realized that the unlocked arm had reached inside the vest. He snapped the man's arm, but it didn't stop him. The device dropped and rolled - a small black cylinder that was now blinking red.

Frak!

The crowd was backing away, uncertainly at first, but with greater urgency as Sam launched himself form the floor yelling "Take cover!"

He grabbed the first likely container - a heavy metallic pot - and threw it, contents and all, over the device, landing on top to ballast it with his own weight. A moment later there a muffled explosion and Sam felt like he'd been punched in the gut by a mountain.

Then everything went black.

* * *

><p><em>AN: If you've read my other Giotto stories, you know his 1st Rule is to avoid a fight if at all possible, so enjoying a fight may seem out of character. However, avoiding fights just means that you've developed the self-discipline to walk away. (I'm not a violent person, but I finish every sparring match with a big grin on my face). <em>

_Giotto reacts with a very old technique for dealing with a grenade when there's no way other way to get rid of it. For a real grenade the survival rate is pretty low, but for other small explosive devices it depends on a lot of factors. _

_Thanks as always to my wonderful beta _**Artemiis Boz_.  
><em>**

_Please r&r_


	10. Hard Landing

**Hard Landing  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Gaila had just come through the door when she heard shouting from inside. She almost turned to look, but a stream of people began pouring out behind her.<p>

"Stay together," Bill yelled, pulling her out of the crowd and against the wall. "Right around this corner."

They edged along the wall, turned, and stopped. The car was a bottom-of-barrel econo rental.

Maras crossed her arms. "You've _got_ to be kidding."

"Hey, I wasn't expecting to need a limo," Bill countered defensively. "Just squeeze in."

Maras looked about to argue when her eyes suddenly bulged. That was only the warning before an arm wrapped Gaila's neck from behind. She reacted without thinking, stomping a spike heel into her assailant's foot, then twisting and throwing him hard. Gaila was almost as surprised as her assailant. How about that? She'd learned more in boot camp than how to sneak out of a barracks after curfew.

She looked up to find Bill staring at her. His look was one of respect mingled with pure 'that was so hot'; but he quickly shook it off and fired a stun at the man on the ground. "Everyone in!"

This time there was no hesitation. Ama and the three sisters managed to wedge themselves into the back seat while Bill tried to simultaneously shield Gaila and push her into the front. A thought hit her and she pointed at her would-be attacker. "What about him?"

Bill closed her door and then ducked back to shoulder the assailant's dead weight. "Pop the trunk."

An instant later they were off at a far higher speed than Gaila would have thought possible for this piece of junk. Bill drove like a maniac, darting over, under, and through every narrow space and tight turn he could find. Jedali screamed with excitement like she was on roller coaster and Ama just screamed, closing her eyes in the attitude of someone praying for it to end.

Finally they turned a corner and accelerated straight into a stone wall. This time Gaila screamed too - until it was cut short by something like a transporter effect. When they emerged, they were in a parking bay with lights flashing on all around the car.

"Next time, warn us!" She snapped and punched Bill in the arm.

"Ow!" He rubbed his biceps accusingly. "You've spent way too much time with Giotto."

They were interrupted by the sound of phaser rifles locking just outside the car. A tall woman with commander's stripes and an angry expression put her hands on her hips.

"Everyone get out slowly and keep your hands in sight." She glared at Bill as he opened his door. "You better have a damn good explanation for this, Agent."

Bill swallowed. "No choice, ma'am - I had to make sure we weren't followed. There were at least two after Cadet Gaila on the inside and another tried to grab her as we were getting into the car."

"He's in the trunk," Gaila added proudly.

Steely gray eyes snapped to her. If Gaila had expected some sort of praise, it wasn't forthcoming. The woman gave a grudging nod and then signaled one of her men to open the trunk. The man inside looked like he was still out, but the guard shot him with another stun before hefting the limp form in a fireman's carry.

"Take him to holding," the commander ordered and turned to address them curtly. "I'm Cmdr. Granger, the Station Chief here. I apologize for the welcome, but as you can see, we don't take unnecessary risks." She shot a meaningful glare at Bill. "If you'll come with me, we'll find a comfortable place for you to wait."

Granger headed toward a door and Gaila hurried to fall in beside her. "Wait for what?"

"For _Giotto_ to show up so we can sort this out." Based on the tone applied to his name, Samuel was in for an even less friendly welcome than the one they'd received.

"He created a diversion so we could get out," Bill offered. "I'm sure -"

A man hurried toward them as soon as they entered a room that might have passed for a normal office if not for the fact that everyone in it appeared to be armed. He handed Granger a PADD which she scanned, her face a gathering storm.

"A diversion..." Granger shook her head. When she looked up her expression was grim. "An explosive went off in that club. It's all over the news."

"It wasn't Samuel," Gaila objected. Seeing Granger's eyebrows tick upward, she straightened to attention. "...I mean, Cmdr. Giotto. Ma'am."

"She's right," Bill added hurriedly. "He was trying to stop the guy who was carrying it."

Granger nodded, lips compressing. "I know. He was ...my first partner." She abruptly handed the PADD to Bill. "I need to make some comms."

Bill just stared a moment as she strode away. When he looked at the PADD, it was clear from his face that the news wasn't good. "...we had every reason to think the Syndicate wouldn't touch that place," he muttered morosely.

"What is it?" Gaila demanded.

"I'm sorry." Bill took a steadying breath before reading the news clip. "Officials are withholding details pending further investigation. However early accounts indicate that an explosive was set off in the club. No deaths have yet been reported," he paused, looking up, "but according to several witnesses, an unidentified human male shielded bystanders by throwing himself on the blast."

Ama gasped and Gaila put a hand on her shoulder. "It said no deaths had been reported. He may have survived."

"We'll find out soon enough." Bill's tone wasn't hopeful. "Cmdr. Granger has contacts in the local hospitals ...and the morgue."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto came to with a start, but the reaction was cut short by restraints that held him fast. Every millimeter of his body hurt, so sudden movements probably weren't a good idea anyway. He cracked his eyes open and immediately closed them. Everything was blurry and the light made his head throb. There was no point in worrying about it right now. Although he didn't hear anyone nearby, he probably didn't have much time.

He didn't need his eyes to tell him that he was fastened to a hard surface and his bonds weren't knock-off security cuffs, polysilk scarves, or (thank goodness) those obnoxious fuzzy 'play' manacles. It was really rather depressing to realize how many Syndicate factions and locations on Orion he could eliminate based on that information alone. Getting out of SI had been one of the best moves he'd ever made.

Obviously, letting himself get dragged back in for this particular assignment had been among the worst ones. He shifted, attempting to test his bonds, and abused muscles protest vehemently. Right. Make that _the_ worst one.

Sam took several slow breaths, quieting his mind and assessing the damage to his body. Nothing felt broken, but it all felt pretty seriously bruised. He was at least mildly concussed, there was a burning pain in one shoulder and he had dozens of small cuts on his face and hands. However, falling on a grenade had a really lousy survival rate, so he was rather surprised to be alive at all. The device must have been designed to cause more panic than damage and he must have made a good choice with that pot. The undershirt made of meta-kevlar had probably helped too. Not that it was going to be much help now, particularly since it was missing.

The swish of a door indicated someone's arrival. Two sets of footsteps. A hand touched his chest, examining, and a whiff of pheromone indicated that it belonged to a woman. "Ah, finally awake," said the voice to match. "I'd hate to have cleaned you up for nothing, especially when Zhal wanted so much to just kill you. That would have been a shame." The hand moved to smooth his hair. "You're rather appealing without all the dirt and bits of shrapnel."

Her breath fell soft across his face and Sam resisted an urge to look. Even if his vision had been clear, it was best not to see her, not to let her draw his attention. Fortunately he had a card to play, or at least a suspicion to confirm. "Zhal? You mean that clumsy oaf from the club?"

"Not too clumsy to take you down," a more familiar voice growled.

"You needed a bomb to do it." Giotto smirked. "I've seen old men with canes who could take you in an _honorable_ fight."

A big hand slammed on his chest and Giotto bit down to keep from wincing. "What do you know of _honor_?" Zhal spat.

Giotto slitted his eyes. "More than you, _yIH ngaghwI' poH_."

The blow came so hard and fast that Sam's head rang. It was a price worth paying just for confirmation, but there was an added bonus. He went limp at impact, pretending he'd been KO'ed.

"Idiot!" the woman screamed.

"Remember your place, Talas!" Zhal snarled. "You work for us."

"_Fine_. Then how am I supposed to get _you_ the girl's location if the only person I have to question is _unconscious_?"

"He'll wake. I didn't kill him - although I should have. Did you _hear_ what he called me?"

"Klingons!" Talas huffed, her voice receding with her footsteps. "Who cares what he thinks you do with tribbles?"

.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Gaila's reaction to throwing her attacker is based on a true story (my college roommate, not me). <em>

_The insult Giotto threw at Zhal is in Klingon - a language in which he fluent only with respect to cussing. The polite translation would be 'Idiot who mates with tribbles'. ;)_

_Many thanks once again to my great beta,_ **Artemiis Boz**.

_Please r&r_


	11. Work Arounds

**Work Arounds**

* * *

><p>Gaila carefully readjusted connections. She was seriously tired of not being told what was going on. Really. She'd been more than patient.<p>

Bad enough that _someone_ had decided to keep her in the dark because they were worried that she'd resign or do something really risky if she knew there were might problems with going home. That she _almost_ understood - the potential for risk had been evident, but the evidence was sketchy. Definitely not enough to forbid anyone from going home, especially when Starfleet was already an issue with the family. So Capt. Pike had intervened, pulling strings and calling in an old friend with SI connections to play uptight-officer-in-need-of-a-break as cover for accompanying her home.

The worst part was that Samuel had been so damned good at the role that she'd ignored her initial suspicions and gotten distracted by the shiny idea that he and Ama would somehow be good for each other. Now, if it turned out that he'd died protecting them, she couldn't even be ticked off at him for deceiving her like that, which would be a double shame.

To really top things off, the most anyone would tell them about Giotto was 'We don't have anything definite yet'. Gaila tried to take that as a sign of hope. After all, you couldn't get more definite than death. On earth people might wait to inform next of kin, but Orion wasn't like that. By now the news would have jumped all over finding a body at the club and probably made up some huge sensational story, or several, to go with it.

None of them would be accurate of course, but Gaila was even better than most Orions at sifting data to figure out what was real. However, Granger had absolutely forbidden her from trying. 'No outside contact. We can't risk letting them figure out that you're here.' Gaila ground her teeth at the thought. As if she couldn't fish through the news and her neighbors' infoblasts without leaving a trail**! **It was insulting.

Granger was even more uptight and security-obsessed than Giotto had ever been. In fact, Gaila had to wonder if they hadn't been partners in more than just the working together sense. A really scary girlfriend would certainly explain a lot about his determination to say no**.**

Gaila put the thought aside. The problem at hand was cracking the wall of silence here about what had happened to him. She'd _almost_ made some headway with Bill, but if there was anything scarier than a scary girlfriend, it was a scary CO. So, no dice. Plus, she'd gotten stuck cooling her heels in this little conference room.

Well, Granger might have forbidden her from fishing for info on a computer, but she was _not _going to be left in the dark again. The comm unit in here had been locked, but locks only worked on incompetent burglars and Gaila had helped her roommate ace the comm technology class. This should be a piece of cake...

She put an improvised receiver to her ear.

"Anything?" Maras asked.

Gaila made a face. "Someone named 'honey-ums' is making kissy noises at his girlfriend."

She was all in favor of flirting, but, seriously, not only was that type of flirting more nauseating then sexy, it had nothing to do with finding Giotto. _Get your minds off sex and back on the job, people!_

_...Ozdat. _She really had been spending too much time with him.

Gaila switched the channel and winced at the sudden burst of feedback. Sparks flew and she hastily shut the comm down before its circuits fused.

_Chastity_. She should have known SI would use multiple locks.

Maras arched a red eyebrow. "I thought you said this would be a piece of cake."

"Shut up." Gaila frowned and then snatched a copper clip from her sister's hair.

"Hey!"

"Sorry." She bent back over the comm. "I needed a new fork for the cake..."

**.**

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto lay still, quietly considering the situation. The evidence suggested that this was a small operation, with limited resources - something the Empire could easily disavow. Therefore, as long as Gaila and her family had gotten to safety, they'd be okay once the attempt was declared a failure. He just needed to hold on long enough to make that happen. Or until he could figure out how to escape.

His bonds had been loosened, but not enough to slip them - not that that would necessarily help. Battered as he was, Giotto wasn't overly confident in his ability to walk straight, let alone make a run for it. Under other circumstances he might still have tried to get a hand around Talas' throat to use her as leverage, but Klingons dealt with hostage situations by killing both hostage and taker. Although Sam knew there was a good chance that he wasn't going to get out of this alive, he wasn't ready to opt for that particular avenue of escape just yet.

Fingertips ran along the side of his body. "Now, where were we?"

_I was imagining an exit strategy that involved breaking your neck_. He didn't say it. The longer Talas assumed he was just a 'friend of the family' the better. He kept his eyes closed and focused on analyzing her technique. She was too subtle to be someone Zhal had pulled from a dance hall...

"So quiet. Do you like this game?" she chuckled deep in her throat, toying with the restraints at his wrists, "Being tied down and making me work for your secrets..."

Sam suppressed a laugh. Talas didn't know he was in security and he wasn't about to explain the joke. Although he did have to wonder why Orion women kept thinking he'd be into bondage.

"Mmm, maybe you're just the strong, silent type... You are strong," her hands smoothed over his arms, "...and a good fighter to do so well against Zhal..."

She wasn't Syndicate, but Talas knew what she was doing. Sam did too, and ignored the tacit invitation to brag.

"But you've paid a price for it." Soft hands began massaging an ointment onto his damaged shoulder.

That was playing dirty. There was nothing like sharp pain to refocus the mind and Giotto had resorted to flexing that shoulder at least once so far.

"Does that feel good?" Talas purred, rubbing the soothing gel over his bruised chest and abs.

...definitely playing dirty...that did feel really good...

_Focus! _There were supplies for pain relief here, but Klingons didn't use analgesics. That had to say something about the location...

"Better?" Talas murmured, hand pausing just below his navel. "I could make you feel so much better in so many ways..."

_Please, not in front of the Klingon_. Somewhere Zhal had to be watching. Sam fixed the thought in his mind - it was nicely inhibiting.

Her hands slid back up to his chest, pheromones spreading like a mist as she leaned over him. "Your heart is beating faster, quiet man. Imagine how much faster I could make it beat if you talk to me..."

_And make it stop the minute I give you anything useful. _

"...you're a fighter, a friend of the family... But you haven't even told me..." Talas' mouth brushed his, "your name."

_Pheromones and_ _springwine lipstick. Damn. _Giotto twisted his face to the side. Name, rank and number were not options. Right now, he was a 'low value' captive and he intended to keep it that way. One stay as a 'guest of the Empire' had been more than enough.

"We don't have time for this!" Zhal suddenly grabbed his jaw, forcing his head back. "Your _name_."

Giotto resisted an urge to grin. Their good cop/bad cop routine needed serious work. Zhal kept losing his patience just before Talas could really get to him.

Fingers tightened on at he sides of his throat. "_Name_."

He cracked the eye that wasn't swollen shut and glared stubbornly.

The big man backhanded him. "_Now_."

"Rumplestiltskin," Sam spat and then wondered at what had just come out of his mouth. Obviously his brain had bounced against the inside of his skull one time too many now. ...on the other hand, it was obscure enough that Zhal might buy it.

A fist slammed into his bad shoulder. _Frak. _Who'd taught the damn Klingon human fairy tales?

Zhal snorted contempt and backed away. "Don't think I won't check it."

Giotto bit his cheeks to contain a laugh. _Go ahead - just come back before my shoulder stops hurting._

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Pike fixed the cadet in front of him with a steely glare. "Kirk, I usually have to warn instructors about making sexual advances to students, _not_ the other way around."

The cadet stood at attention but the attempt at military bearing was marred by a little smirk.

What was he going to do with the boy? Chris was about to order him to wipe the smile off his face, when an unexpected signal flashed on his terminal. He immediately waved a hand in dismissal. "Out."

"But, sir, I-"

"Save it." Pike pointed at the door. "Out. Now."

"Yessir." All traces of smirk were gone as Kirk beat a fast retreat.

How about that. Chris made a mental note to remember that tactic as he activated his secure comm channel. "Sam, what's-"

He stopped dead when an actual picture appeared on the terminal. Not Giotto, but Granger and in a worse mood than usual. Dear God, what had Sam done to piss her off?

"What's this about, Commander?"

"Sir," she responded tightly. "I regret to inform you that Cmdr. Giotto is MIA."

Chris felt his stomach drop. _Please, let it be because all that self-control has finally snapped and he's off somewhere screwing Gaila's mother. Or Gaila. Or her sisters. Or any combination thereof_.

"Explain."

"There was an incident at the club. Giotto was reported to have been injured in an explosion, but emergency responders have found no sign of him. Indications are that he was taken."

Crap. He should have known. On duty Sam was infinitely more likely to fall into enemy's hands than a woman's arms.

"An explosion," Pike repeated evenly. "At the club where you _assured_ me nothing would happen?"

Her eyes flashed. "Your intel was vague _at best_ and _our_ sources indicated no Syndicate activity there."

"And you'd slit your wrists before you'd admit that Sam's instincts are better than your sources!" Chris snapped, scowling into the screen. "But he's the one injured and missing."

"I...apologize, Captain." Granger sounded like the words were acid on her tongue. "We did get Cadet Gaila and her family out. They're here in protective custody, pending further investigation."

"Dammit, you don't _seriously_ think they had anything to do with this?"

"No," she admitted grudgingly. "But we can't release them until we understand who's behind it. The club owner claims to have paid protection to the local Syndicate. Nothing should have happened, especially while they were inside."

Frak, as Sam would say. No one in their right mind disrespected Syndicate protection and if this was an internal power play, it could get ugly fast. Whoever had this done had lit a fuse and his best friend was out there, injured, and probably right in the middle of ground zero for next explosion.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"...Nothing should have happened, especially while they were inside."

_"Well, it did!" _

Pike's voice was so loud that Gaila had to pull the receiver away from her ear. Ow. He could yell even louder than he could whistle.

"I _know_ it did," Granger shot back angrily. "We _are_ looking for him. So far our only lead is a stunned lackey your Cadet brought back. He's been next to worthless on his employers and the only location he's given is impossible."

"Impossible?"

Granger gave a frustrated sigh. "It's probably a lie, but it's also impossible to investigate." A pause. "Councilman Rafhit's private cabin - I've been _ordered_ by Ambassador Hodge not to pursue it."

"I see." Pike's tone along conveyed a string of curses left unsaid. "And you're going to obey that?"

"Trust me, Captain, _no one_ would like get Giotto back and yell at him for this stunt more than I would. However, we don't even know if he's still alive and this is a volatile situation. I have a lot of other agents who'll be in harm's way if it goes bad. You _know_ what Sam would've said about acceptable risks."

There was a long pause. Pike's voice, when he replied, sounded resigned. "I'll see what I can do about the Ambassador's orders on my end. Pike out."

Gaila took the receiver from her ear.

Right. Her Starfleet training told her Pike was doing the right thing, even though Orion politics were convoluted, corrupt, and _slow_. Gaila drummed her fingers on the table. She was Starfleet, but she was also Orion. The Orion way was to handle legal roadblocks by going around them and that's exactly what she was going to do.

Just as soon as she figured out how.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry for a late update. My hard drive crashed and took a lot of the story with it. Fortunately, I had some bits saved and I have a great beta (thanks to <strong>Artemiis Boz<strong> for getting the rewrite on this chapter back so quickly)._

_Just because Gaila didn't hack the locked comm perfectly on the first try doesn't mean she's not awesome. It's a trope that the techie genius always handles any challenge quickly and without a hitch. But I'm an engineer - it's almost never that easy. Plus, if you've read my other stuff, you know I like taking swipes at tropes. _

_Giotto is a bit concussed from the blast and getting smacked around by Zhal. That condition literally is caused by your brain bouncing against the inside of your skull. Fortunately, it's not exactly a new experience for Giotto, so he's managing._

_Please r&r_


	12. Heroes

**Heroes**

* * *

><p>At the swish of a door, Gaila hurriedly tried to stow the evidence of comm-tampering under the table.<p>

"Hey, do you need any food or..." Bill's eyes widened. "What are you doing with-"

Davara quickly grabbed him and pulled him into the room, pressing him against the wall and closing off any chance to raise an alarm by covering his mouth with hers. Bill twisted for a moment in surprised protest, but it was a pretty brief struggle. Davara had his leg pinned between her thighs and after she ground her hips a little, he didn't seem to be trying too hard to get away.

By the time she let him up for air, Gaila and Maras had flanked him on either side. He looked from one to the other, a dazed grin beginning to slip as worry crept onto his face.

"Bill," Gaila whispered, leaning against his shoulder. "We need some help."

"Please." He closed his eyes and blew out a deliberate breath. "I can't."

Maras tangled his other arm with hers and nibbled his earlobe. "Oh, but you can."

"No. Really." He tried to move but quickly found that three Orion women made a pretty convincing barricade. "I can't...please...the Chief would have have my balls for earrings."

Davara slid a hand down to his hip. "I could do _much_ better things to them."

Bill bit his lip, making a noise suspiciously close to a whimper.

"It's okay," Gaila explained, slipping a hand into his pocket. "We're going to rescue Cmdr. Giotto."

"So if you help, you'll be a hero," Maras added, probing the opposite pocket.

Davara slid her hand into his back pocket and smiled seductively. "Everyone loves a hero."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Do you think you're some kind of _hero_?" Zhal roared, heaving Giotto at the wall.

He hit it hard and barely got his good arm up to block before the Klingon was on him again. Zhal had taken his measure as a fighter by now and wasn't leaving many openings. The fact that Sam's vision was still blurred and one shoulder wasn't working, didn't help matters. He ducked and turned, but a wave of vertigo skewed his balance before he could throw a kick.

Zhal countered immediately, forcing him backward against a bench and pinning him down with a forearm across the throat. "I should kill you."

"Go ahead," Giotto whispered evenly. He'd worn red far too long to be bothered by death threats and since losing Maria the prospect of death had mattered even less. If Zhal followed through, he'd fight with whatever he had left, but they couldn't get information from a dead man, so either way, he'd win.

"Stop it!" Talas shouted.

Zhal glared at her, but let up a little, sneering. "A man who curses like a Klingon should fight better."

"'It's easier to defend with two hands than one'," Giotto retorted. If throwing a quote from Kahless in a Klingon's face didn't earn a knock out, nothing would.

"_No_," Talas warned.

Zhal hit him anyway, but altered the blow to impact just below the ribcage.

_Frak_. Giotto collapsed against the bench and rolled to the side. Provoking a Klingon probably hadn't been an optimal strategy. However Sam knew his strengths - he could hold up to a beating more easily than he could hold out against Talas' approach to interrogation.

Besides, when she'd finally unbound him from the platform, he'd had to make an attempt. Considering that he wasn't exactly in peak condition, he hadn't done that badly - there was dark blood at the corner of Zhal's mouth, further proof that his Orion appearance was purely cosmetic.

Talas pulled Zhal away. "I could've handled him," she hissed under her breath and jerked her head to the side, a signal for her partner to leave.

The fake Orion cast a final glare before moving away, leaving Talas to smooth the scrap of filigree that passed for a dress and mutter something about working with amateurs.

Giotto suppressed a smile. He'd been on both sides of interrogations before and had initially distracted himself from her more obvious qualities by analyzing her technique. Talas wasn't an expert, but she certainly wasn't an amateur.

"It's alright, Rumplestiltskin, I understand," she murmured, gliding toward him in cloud of pheromones. "You're a fighter..."

Sam coughed, fighting an urge to laugh. Zhal had apparently decided it wasn't worth the time to check a name that sounded too odd to be an alias.

"...you had to try." Her fingers ran tentatively along his shoulder. "But I know that you wouldn't have hurt me."

_Don't bet on it. You were just the best obstacle I had to throw at Zhal_. He didn't say it. Chances were slim that anyone knew where he was and slimmer still that they'd come for him even if they did know. If he was going to get out of this, he was going to need to get her to drop her guard again.

Giotto closed his eyes against the dizzy feeling that came with trying to sit up. Any time after he could see straight again would be fine.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila slipped Bill's comm back in his pocket. "There, see? Granger doesn't even have to know." She patted his cheek. "Provided you don't tell her anything."

"You are evil and insane." His raised his eyebrows, a corner of his mouth twisting upward. "I probably shouldn't find that quite so hot."

"Trust me, you should." It was nice to be appreciated for a change. She grinned slyly. "Now, I just need the code to get into the garage, a tricorder and three or four phasers - unless you have any sonic grenades?"

"Gaila, I _can't_ -"

"Fine." She waved a hand, pacing back toward comm. "No grenades; I'll just have to be more careful using phasers on overload."

"That's not what I meant. I can't let you - _mmphf_! ...Mmm..."

"Go alone, right?" Davara asked once she let him breath again. "That's so brave of you!"

Bill puffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Well, if the Chief catches me, I'm going to die anyway..."

Almost on cue, the door swished open again and Jedali stopped short of trying another diversion when Ama walked in, followed closely by Granger.

"Commander, I've looked through suspect lists and helped you make a picture of that big man at the club," Ama was saying. She hardly missed a beat upon seeing Bill pressed to wall by Davara and Maras. "And my daughters are entertaining your agents. Now, could you please tell us what you've heard about Samuel?"

Bill immediately extracted himself, blushing furiously. "Ma'am, I just came in to ask if they wanted anything."

"Really?" His CO arched a skeptical eyebrow, obviously not buying the idea that what they'd wanted was him.

"It's not -" he began, but the jury-rigged comm chose that moment to broadcast a burst of static.

"_What_," the Commander demanded, turning with a dangerous look in her eye, "was that?"

Chastity. This was not in the plan. "Ma'am, -"

The woman looked around her before she could finish, eyes lighting on the rewired comm. "You tried to _hack_ my comm system. Do you have any _idea_ how serious this is? I ought to bust you down to..." she paused, mouth forming a thin line, "There _is_ nothing lower than Cadet, which leaves-"

"Don't you yell at my daughter!" Ama cut in firmly, glaring at the Commander. "You're the one who's been keeping us in the dark."

Granger opened her mouth, ready to snap back, when the comm chirped again. She paused, then nodded almost to herself. "Giotto always did ...dislike... withholding information from people it touched directly."

Ama's brows drew downward. "Have you heard anything about him?"

"I'm sorry," Granger replied solemnly. "The situation isn't promising. I can't tell you more than that."

"You can; you just won't!" Jedali stomped her foot. "You know where he is, but some dumbass Ambassador won't let you get him!"

The Commander's eyebrows shot up. "How...?" Her eyes slid back to Gaila. "You didn't just _try_ to hack my comm - you actually did."

"Yes, ma'am." She lifted her chin proudly. If you were going to get busted for something, it should at least be for succeeding at it.

Granger studied her suspiciously. "What else have you done?"

Gaila took a deep breath. Jim said it was 'easier to beg for forgiveness than to ask permission' and he seemed to have a lot of experience when it came to begging for forgiveness, so she hoped he was right. "Well, I made a couple comms..."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"You've fought so hard, " Talas crooned, drawing closer. "Even for people who've abandoned you..."

_People I _ordered _to leave_. Giotto grimaced, breathing through a spasm of pain as fading adrenaline brought abused muscles back to his attention.

"You must feel so alone..." A wave of pheromones washed over him as she wrapped her arms around him ...which did take his mind off the pain...

_Focus, Sam._ He exhaled slowly and smiled to himself noting the irony - Gaila had unwittingly given him an excellent refresher course on resisting pheromones.

Talas stroked his hair, clasping his head against her chest. "Let me help."

Damn. She wasn't nearly as well endowed as Navesh, but Sam did not find this development at all helpful. Smothered by pheromones and Orion cleavage might not be the worst way to go, but on the off chance that there was an afterlife, it wasn't a demise that he wanted to have to explain to Maria.

He pushed away and tried to stand, but his legs didn't seem to be cooperating. Not good. Giotto knew only too well that the human body would only take so much abuse before it told the brain to shove off and went on strike for better working conditions. However, if something below the waist was going to stop responding right now, it shouldn't be his legs.

"What's the matter?" Talas settled onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Sam mentally recited every Klingon curse word he knew. This was not going make getting up, at least in the sense of getting off the bench, any easier. She was in the wrong position to try to pull her off with his good arm, so he used it to reach under her knees and shift her off.

Talas laughed, holding onto his neck so that without his other arm to use as a brake, he had to lean into her. "That's more like it." Soft lips moved below his ear as a hand drifted down to his thigh. "...tell me want you want..."

"I want..." he cleared his throat, catching her hand before it moved any farther. "Water." Preferably with a lot of ice, but anything that would make her let go and take her pheromones elsewhere for a bit would do.

He could feel her smile. "See? You _can_ talk to me." Talas rose, fingers trailing along his chest. "I'll be back with some water, Rumplestiltskin, and then we can talk some more."

Rumplestiltskin. Sam concentrated levering himself off the bench. He was not going to die with that name.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

_"YOU DID WHAT?"_

Gaila tried not to wince. Apparently being able to yell really loud was a requirement for command. "I didn't identify myself. I just left a message for Rafhit saying my friends and I were having a party in the cabin down the road from his and he and whoever was there with him were welcome to come join us."

"So you put him on notice that someone knew the cabin wasn't empty." Granger's mouth formed a thin line. "Cadet, I don't know if Giotto is still alive, but if you've spooked them, he won't be for much longer."

"They'll never hear about it, Commander." Gaila frowned. As if she was that stupid. "Rafhit's a Councilman, so he'll get a lot of invitations like that and he's not going to comm the cabin to tell them."

Granger raised an eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because I had a friend call the Councilman's office pretending to be a reporter who wanted a comment on the rumor that he was connected to the bombing at the club. You know how the Orion news is - big stories are big profit and reporters have no problem skirting the law to get them." Gaila smirked. "Rafhit may be a filthy _snarga_, but he's not stupid. He'll assume the call was meant to flush him out and that he's being watched and his comms are bugged. Plus a lot of reporters sideline as informants for the Syndicate. He'll want to claim ignorance of anything that happens there."

"Like a raid that looks like a Syndicate hit..." Granger mouth had twisted into a grudging smile, but she gave Gaila a hard look. "You weren't planning to do that on your own, were you?"

Ama's eyes widened. "Gaila..."

She looked down. It was a simple plan. Hack the security system. Scan for human life signs. Take out everything in the house that wasn't near Giotto. Stun anyone who was. It hadn't seemed like such a bad idea, at least when her mother and Cmdr. Granger weren't staring at her like that.

"Um," Bill stepped forward uneasily, "not entirely on her own."

"Are you _insane_?" Granger rounded on him. "Keeping her away from those people is the reason Giotto was taken and the reason he is probably holding out against the sort of interrogation that you're _clearly_ not ready to withstand." Her eyes narrowed. "You are off field duty."

"They're not enemy agents," Bill protested. "I admit, I might have...slipped a little, but Gaila had a really good plan."

"Which is why you should have brought it to me instead of acting on your own," Granger snapped. "We have protocol for a reason and you _will_ learn to follow it before I let you out of this office again." She turned to Gaila. "It is a good plan and that is the only reason that I'm not going to throw the book at you."

"Thank you, ma'am." Gaila drew to attention and bit her cheeks to contain a hopeful smile. "Does that mean we're going to go get him?"

"No. _I_ am going to go get him." She fixed Gaila with a stern look. "_You_ are going to stay here and _not_ disobey any more orders. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, ma'am." Gaila told herself it for the best. Granger was obviously in a mood to do serious damage to someone. She probably wouldn't even need grenades.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Many thanks as always to my great beta<em>** Artemiis Boz**.

_I hope no one is disappointed that Gaila is not going to go kick Klingon butt in person. She may be a genius with tech and devious plans, she's only had about a year of Academy training. This raid should be handled by pros, especially since Giotto figures he's on his own and is bound to do something that will complicate the rescue. _

_Don't worry, Gaila will still have role to play._

_Please r&r_  
><em><strong><br>**_


	13. Desperate Measures

**Desperate Measures**

* * *

><p>Granger moved fast. By the time Gaila had shut down the hacked comm, the Commander and four other people clad in black were already examining a satellite image of Rafhit's cabin. 'Cabin' wasn't quite the right term for it though. It looked more like a small rustic castle.<p>

"We'll need to work fast. We know about this location, but there's no telling when the Syndicate will catch on. _They_ will have no compunction about killing everyone present to make an example. So, quick, dark and quiet - no heroics. As far as I'm concerned, 'hero' is just another word for '_idiot_'." Granger looked around sternly, then gave a sharp nod. "Okay, let's gear up and go rescue this idiot."

Jedali leaned toward Gaila, whispering "I think we might need to rescue him from _her_ once they get back."

Gaila gave her a 'maybe' look. Granger did come across as pretty harsh, but Bones said things like that about Jim all the time and they were such good friends that a lot of people thought they were more than just roommates. Humans could be so weird. She was still trying to talk McCoy into a threesome to find out for sure.**  
><strong>

Ama approached the Commander as she began pulling gear from a weapons locker that until a moment ago had looked like a normal office supply cabinet. "Do you think Samuel will be alright?"

"No." Granger snicked a blade into a sheath at her waist. "But I expect he'll be alive. The man's too damn stubborn to die."

An older Orion next to them cleared his throat. "What the Commander _means_, is that we've worked with Giotto before and he's a survivor." He gave Ama a reassuring smile and laid a hand on a medkit at his hip. "He's probably hurt, but it shouldn't be anything I can't fix."

"Doctor Jol's the best," Granger added, a hint of apology in her tone. "Just...don't be surprised if Giotto doesn't walk in here under his own power."

"I understand, Commander. I used to work in a hospital; I know he'll be injured after what happened at the club." Ama's eyes flicked nervously toward Gaila. "This sort of thing doesn't happen often, does it?"

The Commander's mouth twisted. "Not to most people..."

"You have to understand," Jol put in before she could continue. "Giotto was recruited as an agent because he'd withstood, and escaped, Klingon interrogation during the Border Wars. I'm afraid he was given more than his share of...difficult...assignments." The doctor's mouth turned in wry expression. "This won't be the first time we've had to retrieve him."

Ozdat. No wonder Samuel had transferred back to regular 'fleet security. Still, Gaila tried to look on bright side - at least they had experience. "Then he'll know to hang on until you come to get him."

"Cadet, he may be annoyingly protective of everyone around him, but he'd be the first one to tell you that the best survival strategy is to always assume you're expendable." The Commander yanked on black gloves. "I doubt that attitude's changed much after a decade of walking around with a big red 'shoot me' sign on his chest."

The doctor cleared his throat again.

"Sorry, interdepartmental joke," Granger apologized curtly. "Don't worry, Giotto's infuriatingly calm under pressure. As long as he's not being held captive by Klingons, he won't do anything crazy."

Well, at least that was positive. Gaila straightened, trying to look as Starfleet as possible in a skin-tight party dress. "I know I can't come with you, ma'am, but is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just one thing," the Commander replied crisply, signaling 'move out' and heading for the door. "If Pike comms for another update, tell him to keep his shirt on."

As the door closed behind them, Maras looked at Gaila. "I thought Pike was the hot guy who recruited you." She tipped her head quizzically. "Why would anyone want him to keep his shirt on?"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

As soon as Talas left for water, Giotto considered avenues of escape. There were only two - a heavy, locked door and a small air vent near the ceiling. The lattice of bars over the vent probably wasn't just for decoration, which meant he'd need something to use as crowbar, but it should be reachable and he _might_ be able to squeeze through...

Sam sighed. The only reason he was even standing was because the wall was helping to hold him up. He'd have a better chance of being out by the time Talas returned if he pounded his head against the wall until he passed out.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. He pushed himself toward the door, picking up a small table lamp along the way. He was a firm believer in the idea that anything was a weapon in the right hands and despite the fact that his right hand wasn't working right now, even a decorative lamp ought to serve for what he had in mind.

To open the door, Talas had touched her hand to a small pad by the door, apparently programmed to her biosignature. He considered the cover on the sensor pad. After so many years in Security, Giotto knew a thing or two about locks and this one would take a delicate touch to pick. He gripped the neck of the lamp like the hilt of a knife and drove the lighting element as deep into the sensor as he could.

A loud crackle, along with sparks and acrid smoke issued from the pad as the device fused in response to that overt attack. Locks were designed to keep people from opening them and a standard feature in the sophisticated variety was to weld shut in response to tampering. No one ever expected the person trying to break a lock to want it to _stay_ locked.

An exclamation and the sound of running footsteps outside indicated that his captors hadn't expected that either. An unpleasant grinding noise came from the door and Giotto tensed, waiting.

The noise repeated, followed by the sound of someone applying the standard fix for malfunctioning technology: hitting it. Another grinding noise.

An attempt to force the door to slide open ended in a loud curse as Zhal was forced to acknowledge that even Klingon muscles were no match for locked servoactuators. A sharp kick had even less effect on the stout door.

Giotto chuckled. "Let Talas try. She could make a bigger dent, _toDSaH!_"

The next sound was the satisfying thud of an angry Klingon hitting a very solidly made door, followed by an even more satisfying growl of frustration when the body slam resulted in nothing but a bruised shoulder. The wall next to the door vibrated slightly from a series of blows, but showed no sign of giving way. Sam smiled - they'd chosen a nice secure room to keep him in.

"You're going to pay for that, human!"

"Come in here and say that, _petaQ_!"

Sound didn't carry well enough to pick words from whatever conversation followed on the other side of the door, but Giotto heard footsteps stomping away, undoubtedly to find something to break the door open. That should take some time. They could try to blow it in, but a building with solidly built rooms and sophisticated locks implied one with other safety measures, like automated sensors and alarms.

At least that's what he was counting on. That and one other thing. He pulled the base of the lamp from the pad and threw it at a mirrored decoration on the ceiling. If this 'rec room' was designed like others he'd been held in, that should take care of the hidden camera.

He began making his way toward the shelf where Talas had gotten the analgesic ointment earlier. He'd need more of that and whatever else might be in the other bottles and jars. Although he'd never been trained in more than general first aid, Maria had been in medical, so over the years Sam had learned enough about medicinal supplies to be dangerous.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila watched the mission progress over Bill's shoulder. It was a pretty impressive show. In fact, if this weren't so serious, she might want popcorn. The three people guarding the cabin's perimeter had been dropped so smoothly that it looked easy, but the coordination necessary to do that made Gaila realize that trying to go in with just Bill and some phasers had probably been pretty naive.

Some stubborn part of her still thought she might have been able to make it work, but five experienced people on the ground plus back-up monitoring from HQ was clearly the better way to go.

Two of the fuzzy outlines representing the SI team approached the cabin and suddenly winked out, replaced by red dots inside the building's outline.

"What happened?" Ama asked anxiously.

"It's okay," Bill assured her. "The building's materials are really dense so we can only track their transponder signals once they go inside. If we could scan through it, this wouldn't even be necessary. They'd just drop the security shield, look for a human life sign and send us the coordinates so we could beam him out."

The other outlines quickly followed the first two.

Davara sighed. "So now we just have to wait."

"Yeah, and keep an eye on the area." Bill sighed too. "I guess that's going to be my job for awhile."

"Hey," Gaila squeezed his shoulder. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble."

"It's okay." He looked up and grinned a little. "Maybe you can help me practice for when I'm allowed to reapply for field work?"

"Sure, we'll _all_ help," Jedali promised, kissing his cheek.

"Later," Gaila insisted, noticing the way Bill's color rose. "Right now, we're supposed to be watching the area while the rest are inside."

"It shouldn't be long," he said. "As long as nothing unexpected happens, this should go pretty smoothly and...Crap!"

A flashing box appeared in the corner of the screen as a thick coil of grey smoke began to rise from the side of the roof.

Bill cursed under his breath, checking read outs. "Something's on fire in there. Damn - so much for 'dark and quiet'."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto bent his head as the the automatic sprinklers came on, drenching him. It wasn't exactly an ideal way to take a cold shower, but everyone else in the building would be getting just as wet and, more importantly, the downpour would impede Zhal's attempt to slice the lock open with a laser cutter.

The couple jars of burning ointment that he'd managed to wedge into the lattice over the air vent were out of the way of the sprinklers and still sending nice streams of greasy smoke through the ventilation system, so with luck, the fire department would show up before Zhal got through the door.

Sliding off the table, Giotto unexpectedly found himself sitting on the floor with his head spinning. An attempt to rise only made it worse, bringing an unpleasant awareness that he was on the edge of blacking out. He'd known that there was going to be hell to pay for using some of the questionable drugs on that shelf, but he'd hoped that the debt wouldn't come due quite so soon.

As darkness began to fringe the edges of his vision, Sam let his eyes close, laughing mirthlessly. If Maria were still alive, she'd have killed him for pulling something like this.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"I'm going to kill him," Granger hissed, shaking water out of her eyes. "Once - just once! - I'd like to pull that bastard out of trouble and have the operation go smoothly."

"Calm down, Dahlia. You said it yourself, Sam didn't expect anyone to come for him." Jol pulled his collar up against the spray from the sprinkler system. "You have to admit, this is pretty ingenious."

Granger snorted exasperation and opened her comm. "Base, how long until we start hearing sirens?"

"No ETA yet," Bill responded. "The hack on the security system caught the automatic alarm."

"Good. We're close, but keep an eye the emergency channels. I want at least five minutes warning if we have to scrub the mission."

"Copy that, Chief."

Granger snapped the comm shut. "Next time Giotto shows up on Orion, he's on his own."

"I think he might need us this time." The doctor pointed to his tricorder screen. "I'm still getting human life signs, but they're not strong, and one of the other signs is Klingon."

"_Frell_. No wonder he pulled a desperate stunt like this." Granger increased the setting on her phaser. "C'mon. If that Klingon's anywhere near as annoyed as I am, we better get there before _he _kills him."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"What did she mean 'scrub the mission'?" Ama demanded.

"Emergency services would bring a lot more attention than we can afford," Bill explained. "Even if it doesn't clue the Syndicate in, the police would show up along with the fire department. The team has to be out before that."

"Why?" Davara asked. "If they have Samuel, they can prove they had reason to be there."

"Trust me, the authorities will _not_ to be okay with armed commandos invading a Councilman's property no matter what the reason and our people can't identify themselves as SI. Even if we weren't going against orders, the Ambassador would disavow all knowledge of this." Bill's mouth twisted sideways. "As it is, that egotistical windbag would probably congratulate the cops for catching a bunch of dangerous terrorists."

Gaila frowned. If anything like that happened, that Ambassador was going to find himself trying to explain why his computer was suddenly full of the kind of porn that wasn't acceptable even on Orion.

"The Commander won't leave him behind," Ama insisted. "She said they were partners."

"'Partners' probably doesn't, um, translate quite the way you're thinking." Bill coughed slightly. "I mean, people who work together here develop a certain bond, but unless 'irritating bastard' is a term of affection, I don't think they're what you'd call close."

Any further deliberation was interrupted by a warning light. "Game over." Bill shook his head. "One of the neighbors just called in about the smoke."

Chastity! Gaila considered grabbing his hand as he reached for the comm button, but suddenly two more transponder signals appeared on the screen.

"Thank God." Bill breathed a sigh of relief. "That was cutting it close."

"Base," the Granger's voice came over the comm. "We've got three plus two prisoners to beam out."

Prisoners? Surely Samuel wasn't one of them. Gaila looked a question at Bill.

"Copy," Bill replied, a bit uncertainly. "What about the rest?"

"We have bit of a problem," the Commander replied acerbically. "Seems my esteemed colleague barricaded himself in the room with all the smoke and then passed out cold. The wall here is structural. We're going to have to find one we can blast through."

"You've got another problem, Chief," Bill reported, throwing Gaila an apologetic look. "Emergency services are less than ten minutes out."

There was a short string of muttered curses. "Copy. We'll have to hope the EMTs can saw through the door in time. Beam-"

"Wait!" Gaila pushed Bill aside. "We're already hooked into emergency services. I can hack the dispatch code to redirect them to a different address."

"I _think_ they might notice that, Cadet."

"Not if it's in the same community. They'll realize when they get there and see the smoke's coming from a different cabin, but the roads between cabins are narrow and windy, so it should buy you some time."

"Do it," Granger ordered. As the comm closed they could hear her directing someone to 'do something about those damn smoke signals'.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto jerked to consciousness as bits of the wall blew inward. Fortunately, there was no need to hit the dirt. He was already on the floor.

_The Art of War_ said 'If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him' but it occurred to Sam that he may have taken that advice a bit too far with Zhal. He groped on the floor for his last line of defense, a hypo with what he hoped was a drug cocktail strong enough to drop a Klingon. Concealing it in the palm of his good hand, he closed his eyes, playing dead.

He heard a pair of rapid footsteps. Zhal _and_ Talas and he only had one hypo. In a true act of desperation, Sam tossed a prayer to whatever deity might bother to listen that he didn't hit the wrong person.

Knees landed beside him with a thump heavier than he thought Talas would make. Summoning the last of his strength, Giotto drove the hypo sideways.

A hand slammed down his wrist, pinning it to the ground.

"Dammit Giotto!" Granger growled. "Bad enough you choose my sector to attempt suicide-by-duty. Don't kill my doctor too."

"Dahlia?" He nearly laughed. If some deity had heard him, he/she/it had seriously strange taste in angels. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I'm really glad to see you."

A hand clasped a transponder band to his wrist and Giotto recognized Jol's familiar chuckle. "Let's get you out of here, Sam. You're obviously delusional."

* * *

><p><em>AN: A longer chapter than usual to make up for such a late update. I've had some health issues that have put writing on the back burner. Many thanks to my wonderful beta, <em>**Artmeiis Boz**_, for helping me sort out the bits of this that were written when I wasn't terribly clear-headed._

_Klingon terms:_

_toDSaH = wuss, wimp_

_petaQ = insult implying worthlessness, sometimes translated as 'piece of garbage'_

_Incidentally, I'm totally with Maras on the issue of Pike keeping his shirt on. ;)_

_Please r&r_


	14. Wrap Up Operations

**Wrap Up Operations  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Gaila looked up hopefully when the door to the infirmary opened. Last time, Granger had come out but hadn't said anything except that Giotto would live and she needed a drink.<p>

This time the doctor appeared, hands held up to bar a flood of questions. "He's stable. There's still damage to repair, but I need to replicate more human blood before surgery." Jol put a hand on Gaila's shoulder. "Cmdr. Giotto would like to speak with you. Go easy - he's a bit groggy and needs to rest."

In other words, an Orion-style welcome back should wait. Gaila nodded and slipped on the lab coat the doctor offered before entering the room.

Samuel was propped up in a biobed, eyes closed while a nurse ran a dermal regenerator over a cut above his eye. He seemed usually pale under all the bruises and the way one arm hung from his shoulder just wasn't right, but he smiled a little as Gaila approached.

"It's not as bad as it looks, Cadet." He sounded like he was trying not to sound exhausted.

"I'm glad to hear it, sir, because you have definitely looked better."

"Don't worry. The doctor here can fix nearly anything." Giotto opened his eyes as the nurse moved away. "I hear I have you to thank for being here instead of a civilian hospital."

Gaila smiled proudly. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He motioned her to move closer and lowered his voice. "Then I'll forgive you for having your sister drug me."

Chastity. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize -"

"I know, and I couldn't tell you." he chuckled wearily, closing his eyes again. "But you could stand to work a little on taking 'no' for an answer."

_Humans_. Gaila shook her head. "I know you couldn't tell me about Granger, but you could've just said you were seeing someone."

His eyes popped back open. "_That_ is an extremely disturbing assumption."

"No, huh?" She grinned slyly. "Does this mean it's okay to discuss your personal life now?"

"No. It means there are limits to every rule." He lifted his eyebrows a little. "I turned down your offers, Gaila, but it wasn't because I'm insane."

In Gaila's opinion, that might still be debatable, but she understood a little better now. "I know. One of the agents here explained about resisting pheromones." She gave him a broad smile. "We'll make it up to you once you're better."

There was a flash of teeth in his smile this time. "It's a nice thought, but they're going to move you and your family somewhere secure until it's safe for you to go home. I just wanted to say good-bye."

"Good-bye? I don't understand."

"I won't be fit for duty for awhile. Starfleet will send someone else to bring you back to the Academy." Giotto lifted a hand, held open in a human gesture. "You'll make a fine officer, Gaila. I can't say it's been a _pleasure_ guarding you," he gave her a wry smile, "but I think you were worth it."

"Thank you, sir." She clasped his hand. "I will see you again, won't I?"

"Probably, someday." He released his grip and sank back on the bed as if that had taken the last of his strength. "Tell your mother...if I hadn't been on duty..."

Gaila lifted an eyebrow, grinning at him. "You'd have told her she's stacked?"

"No." Samuel closed his eyes, laughing softly. "But I would have enjoyed it more."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto drifted in the odd murky feeling that came with a certain level of injury and/or subsiding anesthesia. After a lifetime in security, it was feeling with which he was depressingly familiar. He shifted experimentally and felt straps on his arms.

_Frak_. Being rescued, seeing everyone safe... It had all seemed so real...

"Wake up, Rumplestiltskin."

He opened his eyes to find Granger smirking down at him.

"You know, Giotto, I'd heard rumors that you'd come a little unglued after the first time Klingons got hold of you, but thinking you're an elf who can spin straw into gold? That's pretty bad."

"No worse than-" His voice rasped painfully, forcing a cough that cut off the rejoinder. Erg. It felt like he'd swallowed an angry porcupine. He resorted to just looking pointedly at the restraints.

Granger shook her head. "Doc spent hours reconstructing that shoulder. _He_ tied you down so you wouldn't screw it up if you woke up swinging. Again." She adjusted the biobed so he was sitting up and held a straw to his lips. "Here, he said you'd need this."

Sam hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't trust her. He did; he trusted her to enjoy watching him try not gag on one of Jol's 'holistic' concoctions. Giotto reminded himself firmly that it would help and forced himself to swallow. It did soothe his throat, but it tasted like pureed slime devil. His stomach promptly sided with his taste buds. Ugh.

"You picked a fight with a damn Klingon," Granger insisted caustically. "Don't tell me you're going to wimp out about drinking some medicine."

Yeah, like she wouldn't rather take a punch than take this stuff. Dahlia had accused him of hazing the first time he'd made her drink it. "It'd go better with whiskey." Sam cleared his throat. "And it would be easier to drink with my hands free."

"Maybe..." Granger gave him an appraising look. "But I need to debrief you and you seem to like being questioned this way."

Giotto glared.

"Protest all you like, but this is the eighth time we've pulled you out of an Orion-style interrogation looking like you'd gone 12 rounds in a cage fight." She smirked as she released the straps. "Those women are experts; there's got to be _some_ reason they give up on the usual methods of seduction in favor of slapping you around..."

Sam chuffed a laugh. "You haven't changed a bit." He choked down another swallow of the drink and gave her a look. "I hope you realize that's not a compliment."

"Sounds like one to me." Granger grinned smugly. "You, on the other hand, look a lot worse for wear. What the hell were you thinking exposing yourself like that?"

"I was _thinking _that I had an unknown number of hostiles and only one completely green rookie for back-up." He cocked an eyebrow. "What were _you_ thinking coming after me? You're Section Chief now - that's supposed to be a desk job."

"Right." Her lips curled inward. "Like Security Chief isn't."

It wasn't exactly, at least not on a starship. However this had been outside his normal range of duty, so it wasn't an argument he was going to win. Giotto forced down the last of the drink and opted for changing the subject. "Have you learned anything about who was behind this yet?"

"Zhal isn't talking, except to claim that he was acting completely on his own and rant about how he plans to dismember someone named Rumplestiltskin." She raised an amused eyebrow. "He may come around though. The Syndicate's still pretty interested in finding whoever trashed a club under their protection and Talas seems to have a good sense of self-preservation. She doesn't know much, but she's willing to cooperate." Dahlia examined her nails casually. "I put her in the same cell with Zhal."

Ha! Sam savored the irony. Pheromones affected Klingons too and he halfway suspected that Zhal had kept blowing his 'bad cop' role because he'd lacked the self-control to just sit back and watch a woman he wanted try to seduce human man.

"Thought you'd enjoy that." Dahlia smirked. "It's not quite the same scenario that they put you through, but I get the impression that Talas has more experience with men who don't have to be tied down first."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"But sair, it _vas_ inwented in Russia!"

Pike resisted an urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Chekov might be one of the most extraordinary mathematical prodigies alive, but Chris was beginning to seriously question admitting a 14-year-old who'd been home-schooled by parents who apparently saw no distinction between Mother Russia and Mother of Invention.

An icon on his terminal blinked and Pike stopped short of dismissing Chekov as abruptly as he'd dismissed Kirk only because it would be too much like kicking a puppy. "Cadet, we have one of the best libraries in the quadrant on this campus. Go research the topic _objectively_ and submit a 20-page report by Monday. Dismissed."

"Sair, yes, sair." The adolescent threw his shoulders back with a determined look and marched out the door.

Please, God, let it be good news. Pike activated the secure comm, bracing for whatever it actually was. After a moment, the screen resolved to an image of Gaila surrounded by three other young Orion women, all dressed in colorful and quite revealing outfits.

Chris swallowed. Based on their expressions the news was good, but he couldn't help thinking that if he'd forced Sam to resist _that_ for the last couple days, good news about Sam might well mean his own future health and well-being were in serious doubt.

Before he found his voice, one of the women leaned toward the screen with a puzzled expression. "Why aren't you taking your shirt off?"

Pike's eyebrows shot to mid-forehead. He just barely caught Gaila's harshly whispered "I _told_ you it was just an expression."

She turned back to face him with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, sir. Little mix up about earth slang."

"That's okay, Cadet." Chris tried to plaster a paternal look on his face while ruthlessly squelching a sudden fantasy about stripping for a private audience of nubile Orion beauties. "I assume you didn't call just to gawk at me?"

"No, sir," Gaila grinned a little, "or at least not _just_ to gawk at you. We got Cmdr. Giotto back and the doctor says he's going to be alright."

Thank God. "That's good to hear, Cadet. I'm a little surprised to be hearing it from you though. Where's Cmdr. Granger?"

"She said she was going to have a drink and then spend some time torturing a Klingon." Gaila's lips pressed together. "I'm pretty sure that last part was just an expression."

"I hope so," a red-head who had to be Gaila's sister grumbled. "Otherwise it's not fair that we can't help."

"Yeah," another added. "That creep was going to kidnap Gaila."

"We should at least get to kick him a few times," the third one muttered, crossing her arms under her chest with a look of pure vengeance.

Chris briefly wondered how Sam would react if he recruited Gaila's sisters for security. Hmm. Maybe in a few years... He refocused on the issue at hand. "Klingons were involved in this?"

"One Klingon anyway," Gaila answered. "He was disguised as an Orion, so we don't know for sure yet."

Which was undoubtedly why Granger was going to interrogate him personally. Physical torture was expressly forbidden under Starfleet regulations, but psychological torture was a gray area and Chris would personally prefer thumb screws to having to spend more than an hour with Dahlia when she was pissed off. Then again, it was just possible that a Klingon would find her abrasive personality a turn on. Now that would be ironic.

"I'm sure they'll have it sorted out soon," Pike assured her. "What did the Ambassador have to say?"

"He doesn't know yet, sir. Cmdr. Granger said we could tell you so you wouldn't..." Gaila paused as if mentally rephrasing something.

"'Get your panties in a twist'," the youngest sister supplied helpfully. "I never knew human men-"

Gaila elbowed her. "Anyway, Ambassador Hodges never gave permission for the operation so you can't tell anyone else yet. Cmdr. Granger says she plans to wait a couple days and then inform him that Cmdr. Giotto was found tied up in a warehouse somewhere."

And until then everyone involved could get good and worried about who exactly had hit Rafhit's cabin and what the former occupants might be telling them. It was devious and just a little sadistic - which were among Dahlia's better qualities. If Hodges so much as twitched his nose the wrong way, he'd probably be in prison - or worse - within the week.

Chris smiled. "I won't say a thing. And don't worry about getting back before classes start. I'll see that your professors know you have permission to be absent."

"Thank you, sir." Gaila nodded. "I'd appreciate it if you could arrange to transmit the first week's assignments here. I know you could send someone for me, but-"

"It's okay, Cadet. I understand. You want to know that your family's safe before you leave and frankly, after all this, you deserve some time together." Pike considered the group on the screen, hoping time together wouldn't be a problem. "Where's your mother?"

"She's with one of the agents, making arrangements." The corners of Gaila's mouth turned downward. "She was hoping to finish up in time to get to say good-bye to Cmdr. Giotto."

"They're going to move us to a safe house somewhere," the other red-head explained. "And we won't get to see him again."

"Which is totally wrong," the youngest continued indignantly. "I mean, he almost died trying to protect us."

"We ought to get to _thank_ him!" The last sister slapped the table so emphatically she nearly bounced out of her bustier.

Pike diverted his eyes to scratch a note on a PADD before looking back at four expectant faces on the screen. It was true that he had a weakness when it came to Orion women, but he recognized manipulation when he saw it. Gaila could easily have made this call alone. And changed into some normal clothes.

"I'll see what I can do about that."

"Thank you, sir!"

Pike smiled benevolently as four beautiful young women beamed at him through the screen. When it was something you wanted to do anyway, there was no reason not to enjoy being manipulated.

"Give me a day or two. Pike out."

He allowed himself one last look before closing the connection. Sam had some ridiculously rigid personal rules when it came to accepting any kind of thanks for doing his job, but if he didn't take advantage of that kind of goodwill and enthusiasm once he'd recovered, Chris was going to have him committed.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto looked up at Jol after being wheeled into the bedroom. "I could have walked in here on my own."

"Doctor." Jol pointed at himself and then jabbed a finger at Sam. "Patient. _I_ say when you're allowed back on your feet. Now climb into bed."

It was a large comfortable-looking bed, but Sam didn't find it particularly appealing. The first day or so he'd needed rest, but inactivity was beginning to grate. And now, exiled to this apartment, there wouldn't even be anything to keep his mind busy - other than plotting what he was going to do to Chris once he got back. Still, if there was one thing he'd learned, it was the futility of arguing with doctors.

"You know, Jol, I'm not the one who told Bill that story about when Dahlia was a rookie."

"It needed to be told and I needed someone to blame." Jol grinned. "I couldn't have asked for a more perfect suspect to frame."

"So this is what I get for making you work on a holiday?"

"Precisely."

Sam scowled at him, but settled into the bed trying to look compliant. Maybe he could convince whatever nurse they'd assigned to look after him here to let him get up and exercise.

The doctor set a small hand weight and resistance band on the bedside table. "You can work on strength and range of motion for that shoulder - within reason. I've instructed your caretakers to make sure you don't over exert yourself."

"Caretakers?" Giotto raised an eyebrow. He'd been known to push getting back into condition, but he was usually a fairly good patient. Despite what Maria used to claim, he didn't need several minders to keep him from over doing things.

"They all volunteered." Jol waved a signal at the door and five smiling Orion women crowded in.

"Hi, Samuel." Gaila grinned, twisting her hips to show off a rather abbreviated nurse's uniform.

Sam put a hand to his chin to keep his jaw from dropping. He was either going to kill Jol or buy him the best bottle of liquor he could find - he just wasn't sure which yet. "These are my caretakers?"

Jol nodded, bouncing a little on his toes. "One of them even knows what she's doing."

Navesh gave the doctor a sly look before settling on the edge of the bed. "He means, I used to work as a nurse's aide," she ran a fairly professional hand over Sam's shoulder, "before I became a massage therapist."

Several bad lines about happy endings sprang to mind, but Giotto immediately discarded them. "This is all...quite a surprise. I thought you'd be getting settled back in your home now that the threat's past."

"We'd already arranged to be gone this week," Gaila explained brightly.

Jedali squeezed his thigh. "You took care of us, now we're going to take care of you."

He inhaled uncomfortably. None of the Orions in the room would think twice about it, a 15-year-old 'taking care of him' was something Sam was simply not prepared to accept. "That's very kind of you, but it's not necessary. I was only doing my duty."

Davara nudged Maras. "That's so cute. He sounds just like one of those holovid heroes."

Argh. He drilled into anyone who'd listen that 'hero' was a synonym for 'idiot'. "I'm not," Giotto insisted. "It's just...against regulations to accept anything like this for doing my job."

Jol coughed a word that sounded suspiciously like 'liar' and Sam shot him a look.

"Your _Captain_ approved this," the doctor stated smugly. "It's alright, ladies. The Commander's just overly tired. He's still weak from his ordeal, which is why he needs to stay in bed and _rest_."

Maras' brows furrowed in confusion. "But -"

"Go get lunch started, girls," Navesh ordered. She stood and made a shoo-ing motion. "Samuel's going to need to eat so he can get his strength back." As they filed out, she bent and tucked the blanket over his chest. "You'll feel better soon. I'm going to keep you warm and comfortable and give you plenty of your favorite cookies."

Giotto very carefully kept his eyes on her face. "Thank you, Navesh, but you don't need -"

He was cut off by a sudden and surprisingly ardent kiss.

When it ended, Sam was left dumbfounded, trying to remember how to breathe.

Navesh flashed a triumphant smile. "I don't care what Starfleet regulations say. You protected us and I'll take care of you if I want to."

_Yes, ma'am_. Sam settled back on the pillows. He just might not kill Chris after all.

Jol chuckled and turned down the light before following Navesh out. "Get some rest, Sam. You're going to need it."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hopefully this ties up most of the loose ends. Just a bit of happy ending and epilogue left to write.<em>

_Thanks as always to my beta_, **Artemiis Boz**.

_Please r&r_


	15. Recovering Well

**Recovering Well  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Samuel, the doctor said you need to drink this."<p>

Giotto looked sourly at the glass. This was not the sort of care he'd been hoping for, especially since Navesh had come in wearing a robe so shear he hadn't even noticed she was carrying one of Jol's noxious concoctions until it was right under his nose.

"I know it doesn't taste good, but once you drink it..." The promise wasn't in words so much as warm breath against his ear and a hand trailing down his chest.

Sam swallowed. The medicine was still disgusting, but it went down a lot easier with the distraction of her lips moving softly at the base of his neck. The day Navesh had quit work as a nurse's aide must have been a very, very sad day for a lot of patients.

"There." She smiled, setting the empty glass aside and pressing a bit of candy to his lips. "This will get rid of the after taste."

_A spoonful of sugar... _He took the treat from her fingers with a smile.

Navesh leaned against him, caressing his cheek. "I can't believe Jol said you might be difficult about drinking that."

Jol had never offered this kind of incentive. Well, to be fair, he had tried the one time, but Sam was a little too far on the hetero side of the spectrum to have responded except by spitting the drink halfway across the room in surprise. Although, in all honesty, if Dahlia had ever tried that, he probably would have done the same.

His reaction to Navesh was far more positive. "I intend to be very cooperative."

"Good." She slipped a hand under the edge of his shirt. "Take this off."

_Yes, ma'am_. He pulled it off, twinging just a little from moving his repaired shoulder too quickly.

"Hmm..." She paused and sat back a little, examining him, and then pressed a hand to his chest. "Lay down."

Sam slid down obediently, admiring the view as she leaned over him. Despite Granger's jokes on the matter he didn't like being held down, but that didn't mean that he had any particular need to be in control. In fact, he was perfectly happy to let Navesh place in whatever position she wanted.

"I'm going to work on your shoulder." Her lips curved in an amused smile at his look of barely suppressed disappointment. "_First_. Now relax."

Navesh had made it pretty clear that whatever care she offered was entirely her choice, so Sam wasn't about to argue. He settled back, doing his best imitation of jello as she carefully stretched his arm and then began to massage the area around the shoulder.

It did feel amazingly good. Not as good as sex of course, but definitely good. He exhaled, eyes half-lidding in pleasure as her fingers kneaded a tight muscle. Last time a woman had massaged that shoulder, he'd done everything in his power not to take any pleasure in it. Now there was no reason not to enjoy. Well, almost no reason. A small but annoying part of his conscience wasn't quite happy with how readily he'd given in on this. He didn't usually concede anything so easily and considering that he was more than a little aroused right now, he could hardly claim that his motives were pure...

Navesh finished and leaned down, pressing warm ample breasts against his chest as she bent to nuzzle his neck.

Giotto was a tough, hard-bitten Security Chief; therefore the noise that came from his throat could _not_ have been a moan, no matter how strenuously his body was asserting that it shared absolutely none of the scruples bothering his conscious.

Navesh chuckled softly, lifting her body from his, and untied a sash, allowing the robe to slip from her shoulders.

Sam almost diverted his eyes out of sheer force of habit. _Stacked had been an understatement..._

"I think you're feeling stronger." She flashed a smile that should've come with an adult content warning. "Do you want Gaila too?"

Sam's brain literally stalled for a moment. There were men out there who'd probably trade a dilithium mine to be in his place right now. However, while Navesh and Gaila would make for a very fine fantasy, they were mother and daughter. Gaila would undoubtedly consider it a weird human hang-up, but it wasn't a scenario he'd be comfortable acting out in reality.

Navesh tipped her head, puzzled. "One of the others?"

_No,_ not even individually. Twenty years ago it might not have bothered him, but now, despite knowing intellectually that Orions reached sexual maturity a good deal earlier than humans, his gut reaction was that Gaila's younger sisters were simply too young. Jedali wasn't even as old as his _niece_, which was a disconcerting thought on a number of levels...

Huh. Apparently in this case he really did prefer a woman closer to his own age. Sam grinned a little, reaching up to pull her closer. "I don't need anyone else, Navesh."

"Flatterer." She patted his cheek affectionately. "It's alright, you don't have to pretend that you don't like pheromones now."

Maybe, but it struck him that he'd be more than happy to do without. In fact, after what he'd just been through, a serious dose was as likely to trigger a fight-or-flight response as inspire lust. And honestly, he didn't need any help whatsoever with lust.

"I've been...overdosed lately. I don't think I'll be able to be around them for a while without feeling like I have to fight it." Sam cupped a wonderfully voluptuous breast in his palm and gave her an very earnest grin. "Besides, you don't need them."

"I'm going to take such good care of you," Navesh promised, falling against him with a fervent kiss.

Mmm. He certainly hoped so. The first time she'd kissed him, he'd been too surprised to really respond. This time Sam pulled her into the bed and returned that kiss with interest.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila sipped Orion tea, staring at the door to Giotto's room. 'I have a tendency to wake violently.' Yeah, Right. Ama hadn't come out of that room since going to 'make sure Samuel took his medicine' last night. As far as she or her sisters could tell from listening to the wall - purely out of concern for their mother, of course - the only violence had been the abuse of some well-used bed springs.

Ama finally slipped out, wearing a robe that had obviously spent the night crumpled on the floor. That was nice to see again. Even if she was a tiny bit jealous, it had been too long since Gaila had seen her mother looking like she'd had a good night.

"Samuel's ready for breakfast now." Ama smiled as she crossed to the kitchen. "He's recovering nicely."

Gaila chuckled and joined her mother in the kitchen. "So, when do the rest of us get a chance to help him recover?"

"I'm sorry. I did ask, but he really has had a bad experience with pheromones now." Ama patted her hand consolingly. "I'm sure he'll get over it with time."

Hmm. Maybe she could accelerate that. His eyes had kind of lit up at seeing her in that little nurse's outfit... Gaila listened to the way her mother was humming as she pulled out utensils. "You're enjoying the idea of having him all to yourself, aren't you?"

"I don't mean to be selfish, Gaila. It's just been years since I've felt like a feast for a starving man." Her mother sighed. "It's going to be really difficult to go back to Balmur after this."

Then again, there'd be plenty of time for therapy on the shuttle trip back. If having Samuel to herself for a bit convinced Ama to finally ditch that selfish jerk, it would be well worth the wait. "I've always said you could do a lot better."

Her mother busied herself laying out ingredients. "Samuel's a special case..."

"Ama, at the Academy I have to damp down my pheromones so I don't distract the guys too much, but it certainly doesn't seem to dampen their appetites." Gaila gave her mother a sly smile. "I'll bet Samuel isn't the only officer who wouldn't care about pheromones if you wore a low enough neckline."

"Gaila!" Her mother tried to give her a reproving look, but it turned into a grin. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you hired him to get me to approve of you joining Starfleet."

Well, not hired, but it sure sounded like getting them together hadn't been such a bad idea. Gaila chuckled remembering the conversation when she'd tried to convince him of that. "I don't think the Commander's the gigolo type."

"He could be..." Ama smiled wickedly. "I never thought someone still convalescing would have that much stamina."

Gaila kept her eyes on the eggs she was cracking. Five days. She could wait five days. Doctor Jol would come by to do check-ups, and Bill and a couple of the other agents had said they'd drop by to make sure everyone was okay. It wasn't like the rest of them wouldn't have anyone to do. Besides, there were plenty of buff guys with lots of stamina at the Academy and Captain Pike really was cuter. If she'd ever passed Samuel in the hall there, she probably wouldn't have looked more than twice.

It was just that after all the time and effort she'd put in to trying to seduce him when he was being rigid Cmdr. Giotto, Gaila was really curious. Not just about how he'd be in bed, but about how he would've reacted to her if he'd really been on leave.

"Well, he's got a lot of self-denial to make up for after having to pretend he was all up-tight and repressed while he was undercover."

"The poor man - he'd had to avoid pheromones then too." Ama frowned a little. "I really should have been a better hostess."

Gaila grinned at her. "I'm sure you'll make up to him."

"I certainly intend to try," Ama affirmed cheerfully. "But promise me that if he doesn't get over this problem with pheromones before he leaves, you'll make sure he gets to enjoy them once he does."

Definitely. In fact, if he didn't get over it by the time they got back, she might talk to Captain Pike about arranging some sort of therapy. Hmm... He and Chris were best friends and it was always easier to face a problem with a friend. Gaila smiled to herself. She knew Chris didn't have any issues with pheromones.

"You can count on me, Ama."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Giotto woke with a start, heart-pounding, and froze.

Just a dream. His hand fell to an empty spot on the bed. For the last couple nights Navesh had insisted on 'keeping him warm' and done an outstanding job of it, despite the fact that he'd reflexively pinned her to the mattress the first time he'd woken from a nightmare. In fact, she'd been very understanding...

This time she must have slipped out while he was sleeping, which was a little surprising since he normally slept very lightly. As much as he hated to admit it, it was just possible that Jol had been right about his body still needing more rest than usual. Then again, he'd also been getting a bit more aerobic activity than was usual for someone on bed rest.

Sam stretched, considering whether to try to get out of bed anyway. Something smelled incredibly good and as nice as it'd been getting room service for the last few days, he was certainly capable of walking to the table.

Before he could move, the door slid open to admit Gaila bearing a tray of food. "It sounded like you were awake." She grinned at him slyly. "Ama said you'd be hungry."

"She was right." He sat up and surveyed the tray placed in front of him. It was piled high with eggs, sausage, fresh muffins, juice and coffee. His stomach rumbled in happy anticipation. "I hope you haven't left your mother with the dishes from all this."

"Of course not - Jedali and Davara are cleaning up." Gaila settled on the edge of the bed opposite the tray. "Ama would have brought the food in herself, but she's still talking to your grandmother."

Sam's appetite evaporated. "My grandmother?"

"I guess she got worried that you hadn't come back yet. She comm'ed a little while ago, but she said not to wake you, so we've been filling her in."

_Gah_. Grandma shouldn't even have had this comm code. She must have bullied it out of Admiral Merriweather. In fact, Giotto was halfway surprised not have gotten a heads up in the form a verbal reprimand from Merriweather himself for making her worry. Sometimes coming from a family with a history in Starfleet was _not_ an advantage.

"Maybe I should go talk to her."

"Oh no, she said you could comm back later - after you'd eaten." Gaila handed him a napkin and smiled brightly. "Don't worry, I told her all about how Ama's been taking care of you."

By pure effort of will did Sam not plant his face in the eggs. Grandma was 103 and not the least bit naive. In fact, she could be blunt enough to embarrass the hell out of her grandchildren. It was still a conversation he did not want to imagine taking place. Ever.

"It's okay, Samuel. She was really happy to hear how well you're recovering. Now, eat." Gaila gave him a little grin. "I promised I wouldn't let you do anything else until you did."

Sam stared at the plate. If the woman who'd dragged him to Mass every Sunday of his childhood was happy with the way he was recovering, who was he to argue? He picked up a fork and speared a piece of sausage.

Gaila nodded approvingly. "You're grandmother's really nice. She said if I came to her restaurant sometime, I could have whatever I wanted, on the house." She beamed at him. "You'll take me, right?"

An image flashed through Sam's mind of showing up at the restaurant with Gaila in the semi-transparent microdress she'd worn during their meal together on the shuttle. Then he imagined the sound of a lot of silverware dropping. Some of the men there would be greener than any Orion with envy; everyone else would imagine that losing Maria had driven him to a mid-life crisis of epic proportions.

Still, he did owe Gaila. Giotto nodded and gave her a wink. "Wear your Cadet uniform. Every young man there will beg to enlist."

"Only the young ones?" She affected a pout.

Sam laughed. "I'm sure a lot of old guys will wish they could still qualify."

Gaila puffed a exasperated breath. "That's not what I meant."

"I know." Sam smiled a little and shook his head. "Gaila, I-"

"It's okay. Ama told me you can't handle too many pheromones yet." She patted his knee sympathetically. "Your grandmother said she was just glad you'd finally remembered you were still alive." Gaila tipped her head quizzically. "...although that seemed like an odd way to put it."

The implied question hung in the air and Sam shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, ignoring it.

"You're not undercover anymore," Gaila prodded. "It's okay to discuss your personal life now."

Giotto gave her a look. "No. It's not."

She rested her hands on her knee and smiled amiably. "So how does my mother compare to the other women you've slept with?"

_Erg_. Sam set his fork down. She had a point. His involvement with Gaila's family could hardly be considered purely professional now. "The rule about my personal life wasn't because I was undercover. I'm a Security Chief; my life has to be a closed book."

Gaila leaned in, lifting her eyebrows. "Commander, if there's one thing Orions are really good at, _besides_ sex, it's keeping a secret."

True, although there was clearly some discrepancy between what humans and Orions saw as information that should be kept private. Still, the simple facts were a matter of record.

"It's not precisely a secret," he relented. "Last year, my wife was killed on an away mission. It -" _was still not open for discussion_. He took a sip of coffee and carefully set the cup on the tray. "We'd been together for a number of years. It's taken some time for me to adjust."

Her formerly smug expression dissolved into sympathy. "You should have told me! Just because I don't get the monogamy thing doesn't mean I can't understand losing someone you love." Gaila leaned across the tray, placing a hand on his cheek and kissing the corner of his mouth. "Take comfort."

It was a particularly Orion form of condolence - part sympathy, part offer - which was at least part of the reason he hadn't told her. Sam lifted her hand away, squeezing it in brief acknowledgement. "I never thought that you wouldn't understand, Gaila. I just prefer not to talk about it."

"And I wasn't being very good about taking 'no' for an answer." She sighed, mouth twisting a little sideways. "I won't try to make you talk."

"Thank you."

"But if you ever do want to talk," she gave him a little smile, "...or just have sex and _not_ talk..."

Sam shook his head. He'd learned years ago that 'sympathy lay' had a completely different meaning on Orion, but it still wasn't something he was inclined to accept. "I appreciate the offer, Gaila, but I'm alright."

"It's not like I wouldn't sleep with you anyway." She clicked her tongue, giving him a reproving look. "I'm just saying that if you ever need company, I'll give you priority."

Considering how many men at the Academy were probably vying for Gaila's attention, that was actually a pretty generous offer. Also one he'd never accept. "That's kind of you, but I try to avoid going to cadets for that sort of company."

She grinned, arching a playful eyebrow. "Then I'll take off my uniform and come to your place."

_Gaila walking down the corridor to his quarters stark naked_... The idea was almost as horrifying as it was arousing. Sam redirected his attention to his coffee. "I'll...bear that in mind."

"Good, because you could stand to work on not giving 'no' for an answer - no wonder your poor grandmother was so worried!" Gaila stood and flashed a grin over her shoulder as she left. "Now I can tell her you're feeling well enough to start responding to me too."

Argh! Giotto almost tossed blankets and tray aside to run after her. Then he remembered that he wasn't wearing pants. He'd have to comm back and sort it out later.

Grandma was a MACO's widow and after Maria's death she'd told everyone else to back off and give him time. However she'd begun mentioning lately that 'people were starting to worry' and there were women out there who wouldn't mind if he wasn't ready for anything serious yet. Somehow he doubted that she'd actually meant Orion women, but Sam planned to claim that he'd just been just taking her advice.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Grandma Giotto was mentioned in the short that inspired this backstory, so I had to show how she became acquainted with Navesh.<em>

_And for anyone wondering: no, Jol isn't gay. He's a normal Orion man, which is to say that on a survey of sexual preference, his answer is 'All of the Above'. ;D  
><em>

___This chapter is a bit long, but RL took me away from this for awhile and I had a lot out-takes to reconcile. _Since it's months late, I decided to just put it up un-beta'ed, so all the mistakes are mine alone. __

__Let me know if you liked it (or not). Please r&r  
><em>_


	16. Returning to (Almost) Normal

**Returning to (Almost) Normal  
><strong>

* * *

><p>By the time Pike arrived, Giotto was sitting in the waiting room, legs crossed, frowning at something on his PADD.<p>

Chris shook his head. It had probably been too much to hope that a week of Orion TLC would turn his old friend into a new man. Still, Sam looked happier than the last time he'd seen him, and, more importantly, he didn't look like he wanted to kill anyone.

"Ready to go, Commander?"

"Yes, sir." He shut off the PADD and picked up his jacket, muttering half to himself, "I swear, no one pays attention to 'out of office' notices anymore. The last time I had this kind of backlog it was because I'd been in a coma."

"If you ask me," Chris remarked dryly, "it would've been a good idea to ignore your messages from the start."

Sam gave him a sour look. "It's not my fault some bureaucrats can't tell the difference between a strongly worded objection and a threat."

Pike sighed. He'd seen the letter. "Threat might be too strong a word, Sam, but you can't blame Fishburne for being a little nervous when you showed up in person."

"I may have been a little ...tense... when I wrote that," he admitted. "But when I spoke with him, I was perfectly calm and polite."

That was probably true, at least in the sense that Sam was one of those people who could calmly and politely scare the daylights out of someone, especially if that person was under the impression that he might suddenly decide to stop being calm and polite.

"As I understand it, you _calmly_ described how many ways a person could die if he was left defenseless somewhere near the Neutral Zone."

"Purely to illustrate my point about the deficiencies in his 'design for minimum cost'," Giotto countered. Calmly.

"And you _politely_ explained that hiding in his office wouldn't help if you decided to kill him."

"That was more sarcastic than polite." Giotto rolled his eyes as they excited the building. "The man should be in a padded room. I invited him to the ship to see the problem firsthand and he reacted as if he'd gotten a dinner invitation from Hannibal Lecter."

Uh-huh. Sam hadn't pulled anything this close to cutting red tape with a chainsaw since their war days, but it was hard to buy that that reaction had been unexpected. Pike lifted an eyebrow. "Was this before or after the discussion about leaving people to die in the Neutral Zone?"

Giotto's mouth went a little sideways. "It was still a leap to take that as a threat. Building security had a good laugh over Fishburne cowering behind his desk, scared to death of a single mild-mannered officer."

"Mild-mannered?" Chris snorted a breath. "Sam, calling you 'mild-mannered' is like calling your grandmother a 'sweet little old lady'."

"My grandmother _is_ a sweet little old lady." An affronted look was marred by a small twitch at the corner of mouth. "As long as you don't cross her."

Pike flattened his lips, fighting a smile. "You realize I spent the last couple hours explaining to various bureaucrats that my Security Chief is not, in fact, a dangerous sociopath."

"Captain," Giotto feigned a wounded look, "you're going to ruin my reputation."

Chris cast a dramatic 'why me?' look heavenward, but gave in to a smile. Sam had spent a few hours in the brig - probably enjoying himself swapping stupid criminal stories with the guards - but he'd gotten his way. Fishburne had caved rather than face a counter-complaint over having a decorated 'fleet Commander detained for nothing more than (calmly and politely) visiting him in person.

Still, Giotto wasn't getting off scot-free. "Your reputation will just have to suffer, Commander. As it is, I'm going to have to suspend you for a day or two to make everyone happy."

"Good." He nodded firmly, looking unaccountably pleased with that. "Make it week."

Pike blinked, wondering for a moment if he should go back and request a DNA scan. Giotto could be strict about discipline, and strictest of all with himself, but that hadn't sounded like the man who'd backed away from drowning grief in alcohol only to drown himself in work.

"A week?"

"We had a deal, Chris," Giotto stated, calmly. "I get a week on Risa; you get to live."

Chris barked a laugh, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Sam."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Gaila bounced through the door of her dorm room, luggage swinging from her shoulder and a smile on her face. However a cheery "I'm back!" died on her lips at the sound of her roommate swearing in several languages. And the smell. _Eww_. If that was coming from Nyota, it was no wonder she was cursing.

"Does this mean you're not glad to see me?"

"Gaila!" Uhura stopped mid-rant. "I'm sorry. I _am_ happy to see you." She came over, stopping a step back from hugging-distance and looked her over as though inspecting for damage. "We heard there was some trouble at home. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it was nothing." _That I'm allowed to talk about_. "There was a fight at a holiday party and it got out of hand. Then there was legal stuff and Orion politics..." Gaila rolled her eyes, flipping a hand dismissively. "But the big news is that Ama's finally okay with me being Starfleet."

"That's great!" Nyota moved aside to let Gaila drop her bags by the dresser. "What changed her mind?"

"Well, we talked and I apologized for just running off," Gaila grinned a little, "and my pilot thought she was totally hot, so she has a much better opinion of 'fleet officers now."

Nyota snorted a laugh. "You could have just sent Kirk."

"Maybe next time." Jim had real potential as a gigolo... But he'd have never made it through a mission that required refusing sex. ...Hmm... She really needed to let Jim know she was back.

"Well, as long as it worked," Nyota replied. "Who was your pilot anyway?"

"Just an older guy who had some friends on Orion - you wouldn't know him." _And I'm not supposed to tell people that I do_. Gaila shrugged and quickly changed the subject. "So, what's been happening here?"

"You mean, why was I cursing a blue streak when you came in?" Nyota's mouth went sideways. "Finnegan and his pals offered to help me prepare for the SERE course."

Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape - every cadet dreaded it, but Gaila couldn't think of it as just hazing anymore. Or as another hurdle to get a slot on the _Enterprise_, like her perfectionist, flagship-obsessed roommate. "I take it something went wrong?"

"They said the best preparation was to just get thrown into stuff," her nose wrinkled in something between anger and disgust, "so they threw me into a big, slimy garbage hold."

"Like that scene from _Star Wars_?" Samuel had given up and just shown them the vid to explain Bill's 'Darth Granger' joke. Gaila suppressed a snicker - Nyota totally had the hair to do Princess Leia earmuff buns.

Her roommate rolled her eyes. "Yeah. And those _rasahkos_ _krenathu_ sealed it from the outside and left. I'm just lucky Chekov heard me pounding and figured out the lock."

Gaila shook her head, trying to banish an image of Chekov as R2D2. This wasn't funny. "Don't worry. Finnegan's going to _pay_ for that."

"No! Don't get into this. They're doing this kind of stuff to a lot of people and I don't want them to single you out for worse. What they did to me wasn't even that bad. And who knows? Maybe it _will_ help prepare me." Nyota frowned, lifting a strand of ponytail and sniffing unhappily. "Although I'm beginning to think I'll never get this smell out of my hair."

Right. First things first. Plotting revenge would have to wait until the smell didn't make her want to gag. "Have you tried baking soda?"

"Yes." Nyota sighed, ticking things off on her fingers. "And vinegar and lemon juice and three different shampoos."

"That's awful." Really awful. Gaila was beginning to regret having acute Orion olfactory senses. "How about tomato juice and vodka?"

Her roommate lifted an eyebrow. "To wash with or to drink?"

"We'll wash first." Gaila grinned. "It should work. Tricia told this story..." She paused. Even if she didn't name names, Samuel probably wouldn't want that one repeated. "Anyway, it got the smell out after someone got stuck in a dumpster."

"At this point I'll try anything." Nyota grabbed her ID, ready to head out, and paused, brow scrunching down. "Who's Tricia?"

"A guy's cousin," Gaila explained swiftly, heading down the hall and toward fresh air. "We went to his grandmother's -"

"Wait a minute!" Nyota hurried to catch up. "A guy took you to meet his _grandmother_?"

"Sure. In fact, there was a big family dinner and I was the guest of honor." Gaila smiled proudly. She couldn't understand why Nyota looked so surprised. After all, she was smart, beautiful and 'brilliantly resourceful'. Who wouldn't want to share her with his family?

"That's..." Nyota waited until they got down the stairs and outside. "How long have you known this guy?"

She shrugged. "A couple weeks. Why?"

"Meeting someone's family usually means the relationship is pretty serious."

Serious? Well, Samuel had nearly died trying to protect her, and since Ama was so far away he'd agreed to be a sort of guardian, or at least emergency contact, which made him about as close to clan as she had in the Federation. And he _had_ just introduced her to his clan. Gaila smiled a little. "I guess it is."

Nyota's eyes got really wide.

"What?" She was beginning to wonder if the smell had affected her friend's brain.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm happy for you. This is just really sudden and ...unexpected."

Unexpected - trust Nyota to come up with a good word for it. "I certainly never expected it," Gaila agreed, and smiled, remembering Samuel's expression when Ama had reminded her to keep her guardian happy. "I think he was pretty surprised too."

"I'll bet." Nyota arched an eyebrow. "So, do I get to meet him?"

Probably. Especially if you get that slot on the _Enterprise_ - which is probably another good reason not to say who he is.

"Someday." Gaila shrugged nonchalantly. "But he's not on earth much and when we said good-bye, he said I might not be able to reach him for awhile."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Pike handed Giotto a glass and settled into a chair with a drink of his own. His on-campus accommodations weren't much more than a glorified motel room, but coming here was easier than shuttling back to the ship. And, more importantly, there were no yeomen waiting with PADDs full of forms, requests and reminders. Chris had only a vague idea (and, okay, a few fantasies) about how recovering in the care of Gaila's family had gone, but something had definitely shifted and if this incident was any indication, those yeomen should be grateful Giotto would be out a while longer.

"I didn't enjoy having to bail you out, Commander." He let a stern look lapse into a half-smile. "But I'm glad to see you've recovered."

"Thank you, Captain," Giotto smiled, tipping his drink in reply. "I received excellent care."

"Excellent, eh?" Chris lifted his eyebrows inquiringly, but wasn't surprised when Sam put his feet up on the coffee table and savored his drink, purposely ignoring the invitation to talk. That aspect of his personality wasn't ever likely to change.

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?"

Sam pursed his lips slightly. "Well, Gaila's sisters wanted to learn a throw they'd seen her use, so I walked them through that and a couple variations." He paused thoughtfully. "And we went over some situational awareness. Jol said he'd keep an eye on them, but this way they're a little better prepared to look out for themselves."

Uh-huh. A week with gorgeous Orion sisters who had petitioned to give him the kind of care no man would ever forget, and Sam had opted to teach them self-defense. The idea would be ludicrous, if not for the unsettling suspicion that it might be true. His Security Chief's recent obsession with emergency readiness had half of the crew ready to jump ship. (It was the reason Pike kept him away from cadet training; drop-out rates were high enough as it was).

Worse yet, his tone had been disturbingly paternal. Chris gave him a wry look. "I'm surprised they didn't send you home sooner."

"Navesh was happy have someone teach her family a little self-defense." Giotto tipped his head, lips curling in a small smile. "It was nice to be appreciated for a change."

"I'll bet." Chris grinned. Sam _might_ have refused the girls. The mother - not a chance. Still, he decided not to press it. "Honestly, I thought you were going to take a couple days to visit _your_ family."

Sam just looked at him.

"Right," he conceded, suppressing a chuckle. "I should have realized. You went through too much interrogation to put up with the family variety."

"You can say that again." Sam swallowed a portion of his drink. "I only made it through last night because Gaila did most of the talking."

Chris felt his eyebrows jump. "You brought Gaila?"

"I'd promised to take her to the restaurant." He shrugged as if that shouldn't be least bit surprising. "We had a nice meal. She was quite impressed with _pesce spada alla ghiotta_."

Uh-huh. Pike put his drink down. He was a starship captain, a position that required some skill at handling even the strangest revelations with equanimity, but he was finding that skill somewhat challenged. His brain kept stalling on the image of Sam walking into the family restaurant with Gaila. If she'd been in one of her barely street-legal 'casual' dresses...

"You're lucky you didn't give your grandmother a heart attack."

"Grandma's tougher than that." Sam scoffed. If he was too ornery to die, anyone who'd met his grandmother knew where he'd gotten it. "Besides, Gaila went in uniform. Grandma wanted to thank her for helping me get back on my feet."

Chris lifted a teasing eyebrow. "You mean, for 'taking care of you'?"

Sam gave him a Look.

Right. He'd undoubtedly avoided mentioning any of that to his grandmother. Besides, the official story was that he'd been injured on leave and a cadet's family had taken him in.

"Gaila's a long way from her clan and she misses having those connections," Sam explained reasonably. "I thought it might help to introduce her to mine."

That had the ring of half-truth, but it was still hard to imagine how he'd pulled it off - even in uniform, Gaila made quite an impression. On the other hand, Sam had been getting pretty tired of people asking if he'd started seeing anyone yet. After this, it would be a_ long _time before anyone back home dared to raise the subject.

"I see. You were just helping an off-world cadet feel more at home on earth."

"I promised Navesh that I'd look after her." The tone said that was his story and he was sticking to it. With Giotto, that meant it would probably take a matter/anti-matter explosion to budge him.

Chris shook his head. He was used to that fact that his friend kept his private life very, very private. However, the last update from Dr. Jol had contained a postscript: _Tell Giotto I'll take good care of his favorite nurse_. Sam might not let himself be swayed by youth, beauty or even pheromones, but back before Maria there'd been a nurse or two who'd gotten inside his guard.

He gave Sam an amused smile. "I guess babysitting an Orion wasn't so bad if you volunteered for a permanent assignment."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I doubt Gaila will need much looking after." He sipped his drink, a corner of his mouth hooking upward. "In fact, it's all I could do to convince her that she's not responsible for taking care of me."

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry this took so long. RL has really gotten in the way of writing and there was a little argument with my characters over what happened on the shuttle trip back. The compromise is that what happened on the shuttle stays on shuttle. ;)<p>

On the first shuttle trip, Giotto was drafting an angry letter to a bureaucrat. He's not the sort of person to just let something like that go.

_rasahkos_ _krenathu_ - Vulcan for 'bastards who have abandoned logic' - worst insult I could find in that language

Yes, Finnegan is the upperclassman who was the bane of TOS!Kirk's Academy years. There are a lot of out takes at this point, so I may add something about how Gaila handles him.

Please review - feedback is much appreciated.


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